LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Shelf .^a.2ia H s 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



^^ 



THE 



MISCELLANEOUS POE 



OF 



y' 



Mrs. Hannah Eayrs Barron, 



Born November 2.f. iSoq. 



^^^'^ COPYRIGHT, ^'^^j^ 

JU N 5 188 4 /, 



NASHUA, X. II. : 
Barker cV Bkax. Book and Job Prixters. 

1884. 



:14 



Entered accordinu," to Act of Congress in the vear ls,^+. bv 

Mrs. Hannah Eavrs Barron, 

in tlie Office of the Librarian of CongTess at Washint)ton. 



PREFACE, 



The ibllowino- poems have been written at 
varions seasons and under different conditions. 
Some while confined to the bed b^' indisposition : 
others under different circumstances, at home and 
abroad, comprising a \•ariet^' ot' subjects, extend- 
ing over a period ot' nearlv tit'tv \'ears. 

When writing, it has not been with the expec- 
tation of having them printed in a bodv t'or the 
pubHc eye. But, bv the sohcitation of manv \'ahied 
friends, I have concluded to offer them to the pub- 
lic comprising manv Iriends and relatives, to wdiom 
the work is respectfullv dedicated bv the Author. 

Hannah Eayrs Barron. 

Xasih A. X. II.. XovenilxM-. ISSo. 



THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD, 



Willi a part\- of hitc 1 did chance to improve. 
Was to meet my young friends in a beautiful groye : 
All the cjiildren and youth were so blithsome and gay. 
On the spot ^vhere in childhood I once loyed to play. 

E\"ery moment improved or it seemed so to me. 
For the time in as pleasant a way as could be : 
All the children performed that assigned to their lot. 
In a way that I'm sure will not soon be forgot. 

And as all with one heart aimed they so did appear. 
For to make others happy and add to the cheer : 
The collation was fine and served up as you must know. 
In a most happy style and passed off with a gusto. 

All the scene was impressive it called up to view. 
Things although they were ancient attractive as new ; 
As I looked all around on the fields that were nigh. 
O'er the meadows and upland in reach of the eye. 

Then the brooks that meandered the pastures from erst. 

All the herd find sufiicient to satiate thirst ; 

It was there where the road crossed the brook near the 

ridge. 
That when seventy years old father built a new bridge. 

W^ith the aid of his oxen he built it alone. 
As a lastinof memento was all built of stone : 
The time that he built it was that and no more. 
In the year eighteen hundred and thirty and four. 

In the field where the corn and the grass once did grt)W. 
Can be seen what Kins' Solomon never could know : 
Though he said there was nothing new uiider the sun. 
Yet I think coidd he there see the iron horse run. 



6 J/rs. Jjari'o)i' s Pocdis. 

Hl()\vin<^ smoke tVoni his nostrils^and licarliis loud ncii^h. 
Thou<>-]i a kin<^- he would i^-ladh' g-et out of the wav ; 
lie would say it \\'as right for old saws to eschew. 
And acknowledge a \ankee can do something new. 

I)y studying wisdom learn science is might. 

Thus Franklin tamed lightning. Morse taught it to write : 

What wonderful feats by the wires are done. 

And the news is transmitted ahead of the sun. 

Also sound is con\e\ed on the wires throuf>-h the air. 
At a speed with which nothing but light will compare ; 
All so perfect the transmit, so sure and s) quick 
That a thousand miles off one can hear a clock tick. 

^Vnd a little beyond through the held hand\' bv. 

Is the beautiful ri^•er the Merrimac nigh ; 

There in childhood 1 rode in the oaken canoe. 

Where the boats with their white sails unfurled floated too. 

On the brow of the bank grew the wild grass grape-\ine 
Where the grapes grew in clusters so purple and fine : 
It was not far from there the wild strawl^errv bed. 
With the fruit so delicious, the color so red. 

On a patch in the meadow the cranberry grew. 
.Vnd the pies made from them were a luxury too ; 
And there also are standing the same walnut trees 
On which lads hung the hiyes for to catch the wild bees. 

There the birch woods were near where the boys set their 

snares. 
For to catch the wild partridge and timid white hares ; 
W^here the crows and the hawks claimed a right with the 

rest. 
On a branch of the trees for to build their own nests. 

On a reed Robert Lincoln \yould perch in the air. 
.Vnd would pour forth his notes l^oth melodious and rare : 
And the robins and other birds joined in the choir. 
All vyho loye nature's beauties such music admire. 

Near, a cool crystal spring on the side of the hill. 
Poured its waters and formed a most beautiful rill ; 



The Home of ui\ Childhooii . 7 

\\. tlic foot of the hill was a nice little pool. 

\\'hich was ii^iX from the sprinq- so refreshinii^ and cool. 

Inhere the wild piqeons came and their bills there immersed. 
For a time thev wcndd stop there and quench all their thirst : 
^Vfter which thcN" would li2;ht on the boui^'hs of the trees. 
\wk\ Nvould ])rate with delight in the cool sliadv breeze. 

Never knowinf^- that near them so slvlv was set. 

So to catch and destroy them the treacherous net ; 

And wdienever decoved by the bait on the bed. 

Ere the danger thev knew the net sprung o'er their head, 

Like a true type of innocence duped and decoved 
By some foe who their virtue or life would destroy, 
^\nd up farther along by the hill's sunny side. 
\\"as the orchard which apples so useful supplied : 

Those among the most useful I think the}' might be. 
The wine apple, sweet, and the spice apple tree : 
There were others for cooking and eating might do. 
The red russet and winter and meadow tree too ; 

There were many trees more that were void of a name. 
]3ut the tree wx called Anna's was one of some fame ; 
Also up on the flat there w^as some orchard more, 
l^oth the apples for cider and cooking it bore : 

I'here was one we called Mother's is all gone for aye. 
It is cut from the stump and is carried away, 
A good type of old age bringing man to decay. 
Health, beauty and usefidness all pass away. 

^\t the head of a run is a beautifid spring. 
From which we in oiu' childhood much water did bring 
And it ran to the street where a trough it would till. 
Where the cattle and horses misfht drink at their will. 



^D 



Oh how sprightly in winter the lambs they would jump, 
.Vnd did skip by their dams as thev went to the pump ; 
And the cattle and horse in their turn would appear. 
And the dog he delighted to bring up the rear. 



S Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

The i^arden was near where the house and barn stood. 
It supplied us witli vei^etables healthy and g^ood ; 
The eabbage, the turnip, the onion and beet. 
The earrots and parsnips and l:)eans all eomplete ; 

The melons and squashes and cucumbers too. 
.Vnd the red and white ciUTants in plenty the\' grew ; 
The lilac and rose-bush we lo\ed them most dear. 
Had flourished and blossomed for man\- a ^•ear. 

The nice ])um])kin sweel; appk's and good wintergreen. 
At tlie end of the garden those trees could be seen ; 
In addition to tliose being some room to spare 
And not far from tlie apple trees, peaches grew there. 

Then the oxen tliex' worked with the cart and the plough. 
And the butter and milk were supplied bv the cows ; 
When slaughtered their beef and their tallow were nice. 
And their liides when \\q\\ tanned to make boots did sufhce. 

Combs were made of tlieir horns, buttons. made of their 

hoofs. 
Their bones make knife liandle's quite hot water proof; 
And their calves the\' were slaughtered when ^■oung to 

make veal. 
And that thev were quite useful I'm siu'e all must feel. 

^Vntl then in the morning ere dav W(ndd appear. 
We could hear the shrill voice of the old chanticleer : 
And he seemed to sav ••early to bed and to rise. 
Is the way t) be health\' and wealthy and wise." 

All so gay in die barn\ard the fowls they woidd crow. 
And cackle and signs of delight they would show ; 
As though that their part they had done with the rest. 
When the\- added an it'g'g to those then in the nest : 

But the eggs Avere not all that the fowls could supph'. 
For their bodies were nice for a thanksgiving pie : 
And when they were well fattened from being well ^(i<\. 
Their .soft feathers were useful to fill up a bed. 

The swine s'jmewliat filthy and called by names hard. 
And yet they could supply us with good pork and lard : 



Uie Home of my CJiildhood. Cf 

And with hams veiT nice and nice sausaq;es too, 

And witli hristlcs for Inrushes, wliat more could tlic\- do? 

.\nd there too \vas the cat whose soft fur was as silk. 
vShe would come in the mornino^ and call for her milk : 
And then she would twidle away in a trice. 
And sly into a corner and watch for the mice. 

And there also the sheep that supplied us with wool. 
To make stockings and cloth for to flannel or full : 
And their mutton and laml) were both tender and good, 
Were it fried, broiled or roasted and ser\ed up for food. 

There were also the horses, eacli one had its daw 
The red and the chestnut, the black and the gray : 
And when thev with their hav and their grain were supplied. 
Then we harnessed them up and went off for a ricle. 

\Vhen our fathers and brothers the labor performed. 
They ploughed, planted, hoed, reaped and haryest corn ; 
Thev mowed, spread and raked Iku- and stored it in barn. 
For to feed stock in winter to keep ihcm from harm. 

()n the scaffold was stored all the best of the hay. 
And that grown in the meadows was put in the bay : 
As the farm was productive it being well tilled. 
So the barn, though capacious, was always well hlled. 

And then too in the farmhouse our mother was there. 
And her daughters partaking her joys and her cares ; 
Fler labors were many, her cares were the more. 
I cannot enumerate half of them o'er. 

Thev carded and spun twisted yarn and knit hose, 

Thev could make and could mend, washed and ironeil the 

clothes ; 
They w^ove cloth of all kinds and bleached it or dyed. 
All bedding or clothing did also provide. 

They cooked meat of all kinds, bread, puddings and beans. 
And when in the season, cooked sauce that was green : 
Dried pumpkins and apples and berries for pies. 
Made butter and cheese and preser\es that were nice. 



lo Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

Made soap and boiled cider, if anything more 
Can be done bv a woman they've done it I'm sure : 
And clien tliere were the cares of a mother l^eside, 
{5e it sickness or heaUh or \vhate\'er l^'tide. 

Were we sick she would smooch down the pillow antl bed. 
Bathe our temples antl soothe much the pain in the head : 
She W'ould watch bv om* bed-side by night or b\- dav. 
And bv everv means slic would try to alla\'. 

All the suhering to which human nature is heir. 
What she could not relieye. she was willing to share. 
vSuch indeed \yere the cares of the husband and wife 
Who were joined heart and hand as the\ journeyed through 
life ; " 

Now their journe\' is ended, their troubles are o'er. 
And life's joys or life's sorrows. the\ '11 know them no more 
Yet I loye to go there to that bright sir!m\- spot. 
For my brothers li\e there, now ww parents are not. 

Now. that home has changed owners, how altered the \iew. 
For the house has been moyed and remodelled anew. 
\\u\ the chimneys rebuilt and new places for fires. 
And all finisiied and furnished as owners desire. 

.On the front and two sides a piazza is made. 
And die groimd 'round about has receiyed a new grade : 
And when all has been finished, the change and the mo\'e 
H\- most all. will he tliought to be cjuite an improve. 

But 1 fondh' look back to the da\s of my \()uth. 
W^hen I first took my lessons in Airtue and truth ; 
When tlie fire-place glowed on the blaze burning l^right 
As I sat ])\ tlie side. \vorke(l or read by the light. 

It was thc.i in eacli corner an old fashioned chair 
Occupied by our parents who always were there ; 
Then our mother would sew. knit, perhaps smoke a pipe. 
.Vnd our father tell stories and cheer up the light. 

Many stories he told I can call up to mind. 

Of the pioneers' hardships and dangers combined ; 

He would tell of the bears that then liyed in the woods. 

How he ate of tlieir meat and considered it <>'<)0(1 : 



TJie Death of tJie MotJicr. 1 1 

They would come to his cornfield and cat up his orain. 
And he watched for their coming so he could ha^'e slain ; 
Mv maternal grandfather was 'weakened one morn 
Bv the sound of his hogs squealing loud as a horn ; 

As he opened the window with caution and care, 
Lo ! the first thine: he saw was a noble orreat bear. 
Qiiite erect on his haunches like one in a gig. 
And he held in his paws and was eating a pig : 

lie had taken for breakfast without asking lea\e. 
Nor did care, not a bit, how its mother might grie^ e. 
Thus the colonists lived, hopes were followed by fears. 
From the opening of spring to the end of the year. 



THE DEATH OF THE MOTHER 

AT THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOn. 



Calm as the ocean's bosom is 
\V hen undisturbed bv tempests breeze. 
\\\i\ as the o'cntle suro-iu"; wave 
Does noiselessly the margin laye ; 

vSo was her life — though imadorned 
Her spirit like the vernal morn 
Was bland and gentle as the breeze 
That floats among unfolding leaves. 

And, as the sun when near to set. 
Appears more dim. tliough lovely vet; 
And having tllsappeared at night. 
Faith sees him still an orb of light. 

Though she has yielded up her l^reath 
And calmly sunk to sleep in death. 
So faith lieholds her spirit rise 
And liailed with welcome to tlie skies. 

This thought contains more 1^alm to heal 
(Than all earth's treasures can reveal) 
The mourner's heart and does assuage 
The tears that flow from youth or age. 



12 Mrs. Barron's Poe/us. 

THE DEATH OF THE FATHER 

A'l' line iioMi; ov MY ciiTi.nirooi). 



lie whom wc l()^ctl is horne a\va\'. 

l\\ silence now he's hiid ; 
Beside the partner of his vouth. 

Beneath the verchmt shade. 

Wlien health and strength permitted him 

He sat npon her grave ; 
Affection caused his tears to How. 

And the green sod to lave. 

Yet calmly on the spot did look. 

The place where is his bed ; 
Did ask of God in humble praver. 

When all his tears be shed. 

He might at last sleep quiet there. 

Might have a peaceful rest ; 
His soul redeemed ascend to hea\'en. 

To l^e forever blest. 

His prayer was heartl in lieaven by Him. 

Whose e'er attentive ear. 
Does hear the voice of humble prayer. 

Heard him of fourscore years. 

And when disease and death assailed. 

His time-worn frame at last ; 
Hope was an anchor to his soul. 

He unreserved cast 

Himself and all at Jesus' feet. 

And He when death drew near ; 
Was as a lamp to guide his wa\-. 

A shield from every fear. 

His faith it triumphed over death. 

The Qfrave its victory lost ; 
His soul passed peacefully from earth. 

To join the heavenly host. 



TJic Death of a Daug-hter. » 13 

For sin no loni^-er now lie mourns. 

He suffers no more pain ; 
Tlie loss we deeply feel, we trust 

Is his eternal jzain. 



THE DEATH OF A DAUGHTER 

AT TUI-: HOME OF JNIV CHILnHOOI). 



Alas I and shall we hear her voice 

No more, nor see her face? 
We would that she mi<>-ht still be here. 

To fill this vacant place. 

But she has bid farewell to earth. 

And all thinj^s here below ; 
No more will mingle with us here. 

Nor with her can wc go. 

Methinks 1 now can see her form 

All wasted bv disease ; 
And hear her speak of suffering. 

vShe coidd not speak of ease. 

l^ut when she spoke of her distress, 

vShe often too ^v()uld sav. 
Mv Saviour sufieretl more than I. 

To wash m\- sins awav. 

She called her brothers to her sidj 
.\nd said dear brothers hear : 

Mv sufferings for a long time past 
Have been the most severe. 

But soon the\" will be over now. 

Nor with you can I stav. 
Since human means have ceased to act. 

Disease does deeper prev. 

All has been done to save mv life. 

I'm satisfied 'tis so ; 
And since all human means have failed. 

I'm willino- now to g:o. 



14 J/r.v. Barron's Poems. 

Weep not for me, that 1 must die. 

1 woiikl not have vou grieve ; 
For in the bosom of my God, 

I trust mv soul will live, 

I have a hope in Jesus Christ, 
That He my friend will prove. 

And send His guardian angel down. 
To bear my soul above. 

That for my soul He has prepared 

An everlastino; rest ; 
And through His grace I trust in (jod 

I shall be alwavs blest. 

And now my dving counsel is. 

That you my voice ma}- heed. 
Attend to your own soul's concern 

For vou rcUg'ion need. 

You cannot ever happv be. 

Without a hope in Christ ; 
And if on Him vou build vour faith 

He'll give you endless life. 

It is with dying lips I speak. 

And feeble accents too ; 
To warn you of ^our latter end. 

And what I feel for vou. 

I beg of you to promise /ue. 

That you your hearts will bend. 

Before the throne of grace, and plead 
That God ^vill be vour friend. 

If you have no conviction now. 

Ask God and He will give 
His spirit, to enlighten vou. 

And teach vou how to li^'e. 

And fear not worldly scoffers for 
They need not vou alarm. 

Come out and be decided, do. 
Thev cannot do vou harm. 



71ic Death of a DaitoJitcr. 

When her companions called to see 
^Vnd hear her last farewell : 

vShe said alas ! they come too /ate. 
Nor can my feelings tell. 

At length she raised an anxious look 
The}' to her side drew near, 

A gentle whisper from her lips 
Fell on their listening ears. 

She said to them, you see me now. 

All wasted by disease ; 
Nor in this world of suffering 

Can I expect more ease. 



15 



Till death a friendly messenger 

Shall take me home to rest. 
My soul I trust will go to (rod 

To be forever Idlest, 

And may my early exit now. 

A warning be to you ; 
Oh. may you solemnly ]-eflect 

loftr days ma\' number few. 

Oh, \-d\uQ not the joys of earth, 

They soon will pass awa}' ; 
Nor can they make you happy here. 

While in this world vou stay. 

Religion is the only source 

From wdience true pleasures Hcny ; 

And will you not before the throne 
Of grace a suppliant bow.' 

Ask*God to teach \ou what you are. 

And what you ought to be : 
To make you happy here on eartli. 

And in eternity. 

Oh. may I not your promise haye. 
That you will serye the Lord ; 

Though you shall hear my voice no more 
You will attend His word .^ 



i6 .Mrs. Barro/fs Pocjiis. 

That you nr.w liappincss enjoy. 

While in this world you stay ; 
And hope when death shall call von liencc. 

To find eternal da\-. 

Alas I said she. when thev were <^one. 

All r ha\'e said is naui^ht ; 
For when my lips shall cease to speak. 

All soon will b:: fonj^oi. 

Oh, if they could their dan'j^er feel. 

As I their danger see ; 
Thev would not rest one single da\'. 

Until their souls were free. 

When first 1 had a \iew of sin. 

My soul was filled with awe : 
I felfl justly was condemned. 

Tried by God's holv law. 

Seven times a da\' before my (iod 

Did 1 for mercy plead ; 
He heard my prayer, revealed His grace. 

And I w^as blest indeed. 

An anchor to my soul has been 

The hope I then obtained. 
Of vast more w^orth it is to me. 

Than worlds of earthlv gain. 

And would my friends repent and learn 

To serve the Lord aright : 
Then we might hope to meet again. 

In worlds of heavenly light. 

When death's dread summons did appear. 

To set her spirit free ; 
She said, dear sisters, he composed . 

And do not iveep for me. 

Though now I die. my hope is firm. 
In Jesus I am blest : 
*'7'w zviiling nozv to go.'" said she. 
And soon she sank to rest. 



The Death of a Daughter. 17 

No lono'cr now she mourns for sin. 

No pain she suffers more ; 
No longer will she need our cure. 

As she has done before. 

For her affection sheds a tear. 

Her memory cherish still. 
And would that she might still be here 

This vacant place to hll. 

No more the music of her voice 

Will fall upon our ears. 
No more her black and sparkling eyes 

Will look upon us here. 

The smiles that plaved upon her cheek. 

Have ceased to plav tliere now ; 
Her hands no more the sufferer aid. 

As they were wont, to do. 

She sleeps in yonder cemeterv. 

Beneath the spreading shade : 
Within the silent tomb she lies. 

And rests her wearv head. 

Methinks I see her spirit rise. 

To worlds of heavenlv lisfht : 
^Vhere she will spend eternity 

In rapturous delight. 

Lord, condescend to hear our pra\er. 

When b}- her side we lie. 
Wilt thou a mansion for our souls 

Prepare, beyond the skv. 

May we with her in hea^■en behold 

The glories of Thy face. 
And through eternity unite 

To sinsf redeeminsf irrace. 



iS .Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

THE GREATNESS AND GOODNESS 
OF GOD. 



The philosopher sees in God's works are His hiws. ' 
When he finds an effect, he will search for the cause ; 
And His goodness in all things. His wisdom and might. 
Whether creating- darkness, or creatin<j[- lio-ht. 



^> 



As the river that empties itseU'in the sea. 
May be traced to its source, on the mountain may be : 
Or the tree that grows high spreads its branches in air. 
Trace its source to the groimd. and roots will be there. 

For God's attributes, pagans created them gods ; 
But thev could not make matter, thousfh masfical rods 
Might be turned into serpents, 'twas but for a day. 
When themselves and their miracles all passed away. 

There was Ceres the goddess who ripened the grain. 
There was Neptime the god who could furnish the rain 
And Osiris was one of the gods of the dav. 
And Hyperian of night when the light passed avyay. 

There was Houris who measured out time, "iive its leno-th. 
Hercides was a «-od and adored tor his strength : 
There was Hermes, inspired man to ^^-ork in the arts. 
And Mercury taught music to cheer up the heart. 

There were many more, some were the gods of the skies 
All as darkness to light \yere thev to the Allwise ; 
In the roaring of thunder, or humming of bees. 
In the noise of an insect, or voice of the seas. 

In the mountain majestic, snow capped, reaching higli. 
Or the tiniest insect, perfecting its eve. 
Though the whole of the imiverse sways as a king. 
Yet He deigns for an insect, to perfect its wing. 

Leaving noching luifinished excepting for man. 
Unto whom He gives ^visdom, to finish His plan. 
Once this earth was considered a stupendous ball. 
Being incomprehensible, deemed as a whole. 



7(9 a Toung Physician. 19 

And that heaven was a phice. small indeed. hi<2^h above : 
And where onlv the saints could partake of God's love. 
But we now can conceive of more planets than one. 
That a star far away is itself a bright sim ; 

That God's works are not ended, nor ever will be. 

Until space finds an end too. and eternity I 

As a dust, a small particle, tioats in the air. 

With tlic size of this earth, could the mind thus compare. 

vS(^ this earth as a speck of dust. tioatin<^ before. 
With God's work of creation compareth no more ; 
Were the earth all a parchment, on which one could \vrite. 
And each man were a scribe, with a mind to indite ; 

i\nd the bed of the ocean, with ink could be tilled. 
Could each stick on the earth be made into a quill. 
Foi'to write all His greatness, the ink it would fail. 
And to write all His goodness, the effort ^vere stale. 

And all minds would gTow weary, and sink in despair. 
The endeavor abortive dissolve in the air * 
And for mercies unnumbered and grace He imparts. 
With most2:rateful remembrance should rise from the heart. 



TO A YOUNG PHYSICIAN WHOSE 
HEALTH WAS FAILING. 



Heaven "-nint vour health and streno-th mav vet return. 
Vour lamp of life may yet more brightly burn : 
To ripe old age, should life to you remain. 
My faith is strong, vou will not live in vain. 

You will not wait to know will it be gain. 
If vou are called upon to quiet pain ; 
Your sympathies by age will not grow sere 
If 'round the sufferer's bed vou see a tear. 



20 J/rs. Barron's Poems. 

Prudeiice was mother of the virtues all. 
So Epicurus taught his school to call : 
Patience and perseverance, thev are two. 
\Vho in a sick room mav for nurses do. 

Others there are. who may be quite asfan*. 
Wisdom will teach to find out who tliev are : 
Among her daughters names, I know are three. 
VV^ho are called Faith, and Hope, and Charity. 

And Lv) these last named three, it has been given. 
To make a ladder, which will reach to heaven. 
The first as mother, let her be vour o-uide. 
Her daughters, sisters, keep them bv vour side ; 

Whate'er you do. where'er vour lot shall be. 
May God in mercy grant His grace to thee ; 
And may you live be many blessings shed 
Bv convalescent patients on vour head. 

And when \-our life is done, vour labors o'er. 
And nature needs nou":ht. and can do no UKjre : 
Your mother's spirit welcome vou on high. 
Where \()u will learn "it is not muc/f to die.'' 



A PAGE IN THE LIFE OF A CLERGYMAN. 



As a clergyman sat in his stud\' one day. 

And a sermon was trying to write : 
Till his hand had grown weary, his brain was on fire. 

Yet his sermon was not finished quite. 

There tlie \'ohnne called sacred it laid bv his side. 

And he sought bv its pages to find. 
vSome good passage to aid him his text to explain. 

Or to fill up a void in his mind. 

\\\d he thought of the Sabbath, the day drawing near. 

And It is people expecting him there : 
l'^)r to teach them the truth and to sfuide them to hea\en. 

And t ) lead their devotions in prayer. 



A Pa^'c ill tJic Life of a Clerirymaii . 21 

lie then needed some object to take up his mind. 

One on which it mig-ht rest until clear : 
Which would- not soil the fountain nor current conhne. 

And he then might go on with a cheer. 

As the door of his room it stood slightly ajar. 

Soon he heard a light step on ihe tioor ; 
And he saw a bright face and a white tiny hand. 

Which took hold of the latch of the door. 

There she waited awhile for to see would he say. 

If she might or might not come in there : 
Then she silently glided along to his side. 

And stepped' on to the round of his chair. 

So he gently took hold of her bright sunny curls. 

Then she yentured to seek a caress : 
Climbing up on his knee clasped her arms 'round his neck. 

On his lips then imprinted a kiss. 

Soon another one older came into the room. 

With a bouquet all fragrant and new ; 
Here dear papa, she said, I haye gathered these flowers. 

With my own hands o)i purpose for you. 

Now they chatted, then kissed him. then laughed in their 
glee. 

And in turn he kissed them and caressed. 
By the time they Ayere done and retired from the room. 

He was feeling quite hale and refreshed. 

Then he took up his pen and soon finished his task. 

As inspired from on high he might do : 
Xeyer felt he more sure of the presence of (jod. 

Hope was high and his faith ^yas strong too. 

Thus it often occurred in his weary sad hours. 
That those darlings would come to his room ; 

Like a charm in his bosom his spirits inspired, 
Streno'th renewed would his labors resume. 



22 Mrs. J^arro)i\s Poet)is. 

But the angel of death in his circle around. 
With the summons he brought from above ; 

Never sparing the aged or innocent child. 
Made a call at that (Kvelling of loves. 

Having followed the arrow that Phoebus had sent. 

With more speed than the wings of a dove ; 
lie soon marked for his victim diat innocent child. 

The one voungest. blest emblem of love. 

But a week had passed by and he stopped there again. 

Not yet satisfied called for one more ; 
And the one that he claimed was the next voungest child. 

Yes that darling I mentioned 1')efore. 

So they placed them in caskets and decked them with 
flowers. 

What was earthly still lovely were thev ; 
Then in silent procession conveved them from home. 

Safe and quictlv laid them awa\-. 

With the wdngs of a seraph their spirits did soar. 

To the regions of light sped their wav ; 
Where the face of their God thev will alwavs behold. 

And rejoice in His presence for ave. 

Thus the hearts of those parents were stricken with grief, 
Yea, that mother those children had borne ; 

And that father whose happiness mingled with theirs. 
From whose bosoms those darlings were torn. 

As if more was still needed to trv them for good. 
And their souls to make pure did require ; 

That fond mother and son were soon tried with disease. 
Like as silver is tried in the fire. 

Though all thought death was near, he relinquished his 
claim. 

And as Gotl had decreed by His will ; 
They did both well recover, that mother now lives. 

Blessing those that remain with them still. 

But they hear not the sound of those little feet now. 
As they sped o'er the fioor of the room : 



Do All The Good 7'o?t Ca//. 2; 

And the chairs in the corner are vacated now. 
Have no occupants when it is noon. 

And at evenino- thev hear not those voices so sweet. 

And those eves that did sparkle so bright ; 
They see not as they said when retiring to rest. 

Good iiigJit papa I and mamma good night I 

Yet it sometimes mav seem as though voices were lieard 
Of bright spirits were mingled with air ; 

Music vibrating chords that entwined 'round the heart. 
Of affection when loved ones were there. 

And how hopeful this thought of those passing awav. 

When the presence of loved ones have ceased : 
Hiat the tenement onlv will go to decay. 

And thev still are not dead but released. 



DO ALL THE GOOD YOU CAN. 



The greatest aim of life it is. 

To do what good vou can ; 
It adds new bcautv to a vouth. 

And dignit\- to man. 

Such luxuries i think are few. 

As that of doing good : 
The dessert must be rare indeed. 

That crowns a meal of food. 

However few and small the acts. 

If needed vou \\\\\ find : 
Has moved a burden from her heart. 

Or cheered the widow's mind. 

Perhaps the favor is so small. 

A thought yow scarce bestow : 
You may a pail of water draw. 

Or clear the path of snow. 



24 A/rs. Barrd>f\s- Pocws. 

May be that she is sick and lone. 

And would a doctor see : 
Vou call and send him up at once. 

Ere lono- jier sufferini^-s flee. 

Or she may need something- of weig^ht. 

Mo\'ed which she cannot do ; 
vShe asks for aid. you i^rant the boon. 

The thouo-ht stays not with vou. 

She may desire a piece of meat. 

To market canr.ot g"o : 
You call and send the butcher up. 

.\.nd thus ^■our kinchiess show. 

Perhaps she lias a letter, she 
Would to the office send ; 

Or wants that you should call and ask 
For one therefrom a friend. 

Or be thev many fayors large. 

Or be they small or few ; 
^Vithin her bosom thankfid thoughts. 

Will habit there for you. 

You "o to take a mornino- walk. 

And breathe the healthful air ; 
No great events expect to see. 

And little do you care. 

A child may fall and bruisL' his head. 

You ncA'cr saw before ; 
He calls his mother but in vain. 

^'ou bear him to her door. 

Her heart is filled with gratitude. 

She ne^'er can express ; 
Though she may never see you more. 

Your memory she will bless. 

You may be walking in the street. 

Among the young ajid gay ; 
You see a feeble person trip. 

And fall across the way. 



Do All TJic Good I'on Cn?f. 

Vou feel perhaps it is a cross. 

The person may l^e poor ; 
You lieed not heartless sneers and scoffs. 

But lead hiiu to his door. 

At morn or eNeninjj" on his knees. 

Before the throne of o-race. 
His heart for \o\\ among' his loves 

In praver will find a place. 

Some orphan Ixn' mav dress in ra«-s. 

By other lads despised. 
Because they have the means to dress. 

Vet not one ^vhit more ^vise. 

They think it smart to sneer at liim. 

Or wash his face with snow ; 
You take his part nor heed their threats. 

But let the orphan o'o. 

If you ]ia\ e means vou'U ^evd the poor. 

If strong will help die weak ; 
In everv act of life will he 

To do some good vou '11 seek. 

In every thing you undertake. 

The business you pursue : 
Your aim of action raise it high. 

And keep the end in view. 

The orphan bov whom aid vou gave. 

And wounded little child : 
Will mark you for the favors past. 

In age will on vou smile. 

Like bread upon the \vaters cast. 

The prophet said of old ; 
In harvest may some fiftv vield. 

Perhaps a hundred fold. 

So when Nour work is done on earth. 

And ^■ou shall pass a\vav. 
The mem'ry of the good \'ou've done 

Will mark \'our name and day. 



26 Mrs. Barroiis Poems. 

Like Washington or Franklin who. 

Temptations great withstood. 
Tlie generations yet iniborn 

Will bless for doinir "food. 



ACROSTIC. 



Pursue the path which pious men have trod. 
Heaven marked it out. it leads the wav tf) God : 
P^mmanuel radiated it with light. 
Be faithful, follow on with all your might. 
Enlightened minds find hope and comfort where 
Persons who know not God are not aware ; 
W^ho can make soft the bed of death for man. 
Relieve the sufl'ering mind God only can. 
If God befriend vou, nothing need you fear. 
Give Him your heart he'll wipe away \our tear 
Hope to ^'Our soid an anchor may it 1k\ 
That mav find a blest eternity. 



IF IT COULD BE. 



Might earth her \'aried l>eauties all retain. 
Her verdiu'e and lier flowers and fruit remain : 
Her genial suns with her refreshing showers. 
And balm\' breezes with regaling powers. 

Could man retain youth's beauties in old ■<\'^<c. 
In iiis primeval vigor yet grow sage : 
And no disease from frosts of nature feel. 
All circumstances aid his general weal. 

Nor evil passions rise within his lireast. 

Then all might still be happy being blest : 

This earth would be a paradise indeed, 

God's works woidd ne'er be clad in sorrow's weed. 



The Tear 1861 is Gone. 27 

Alas I it is not so nature's decay. 
Her verdure and her beaut}' pass a\\ay ; 
The liand of winter l:)inds witli frosty chains 
The rills and rivers o'er the wide domain. 

This is not all win we ha\*e learned to sigh. 
\'()uth wanes too soon, old age is siu'e to die ; 
Sin. disappointment and disease unite 
Our everv hope of bliss on earth to l^light. 

And mv vouno- friend mav \'ou in xouth engage. 
To studv wisdom and improve in age : 
Antl when Nour bodv dies. \ our spirit ma\ 
It wake to lil'e in one eternal da\ . 



THE YEAR \m\ IS GONE, 



Another point of time has past. 
Another shade on life is cast ; 
Another year which will but be 
A milestone, in eternity. 

The earth revolving is the wheel 
Bv which alone, our senses feel. 
We progress onward, and each day 
See some new object on the wa\ . 

The sun sends up a golden rav. 
An omen of approaching day ; 
And when his light in full is due. 
In splendor rises to our view. 

Progressing on, he marks his way.' 
The morn, the noon, the close of day ; 
Each hour and moment all combine 
To mind us of the flight of^time. 

The m(3on too with her silvery light, 
And stars that sparkle in the night ; 
Each marks its point, and makes us feel, 
They all are spokes in one great wheel. 



28 Mrs. BarroN\'i Pocdis. 

As I have viewed each piissino;- houi'. 
I've noted too time's conquLMing- power: 
No monarch can with liim compete. 
His conquests always are complete. 

Those who have joiUMieyed long" and tar. 
Weary, and worn, within his car. 
Have stopped at last, as God thought best. 
To take their everlasting rest. 

The aj^ed are not those alone. 
For wliom the living now do moiu'n : 
The rosy cheeked and sparkling eyetl 
Have like the lilv drooped and died. 

Twelve months agfo thou new born \ear. 
Wast ushered in with heartfelt cheer : 
Parents and children seemed to h<i 
A unit of hilarity. 

Some of those hearts are stricken now. 
For death has laid a loved one low : 
No music now will touch that ear. 
Its sleep will know no waking here. 

Some cups appear to till with jov. 
To human view, without alloy : 
While others seemed to overflow. 
With disappointment, care and woe. 

Thou hast thv mission well fidtilled. 
Hast done thy part for good or ill ; 
And like the years have gone before. 
Hast done thy duty and no more. 

Like as a friend we wish might stay. 
Their visit ended hie away ; 
Time being spent, we are compelled 
To bid adieu, a sad farewell. 

So eighteen hundred sixty-one. 

Thy days are numbered and are done : 

Thou canst no lonofer with us dwell. 



*-«' 



So we must sav farewell, farewell. 



Forty Tears Ago. 29 

THE LAST OF 1863. 



I beheld a young lad, who came running along. 

With a face fresh and healthy and looking quite strong ; 

But on nearer approach, unlike those of his years. 

He was sad, looking thoughtful, his eyes dropping tears. 

He performed all the tluties which fell to his lot. 
Never shrinking from labor, though pleasant or not ; 
Though surrounded with laughter, yet something like fears 
Seemed still lin-king within, he was vet shedding tears. 

As he grew up a man, he was willing to bear 
All the crosses of life, to do good was his care ; 
Food bestowed on the hungrv, and clothes it appears, 
He supplied for the naked, vet kept shedding tears. 

\\\({ I saw him wlien old and his head turning gray. 
And I asked him why sorrow thus marked all his way .^ 
Why said he, death and carnage destroys all that cheers. 
And he bowed his head low to die. still shedding tears. 

Do vou ask mj tiie name of that vouth. man, and sao,e. 
Who so wept in liis childhood, and wept in old age. 
But a speck in etcrnit\' onlv was he, 
\]^cepi)ig year elgJitecn Jiiindrcd a //d sixty and three. 



FORTY YEARS AGO. 



As hc-re alone 1 sit me down. 
To write on something new : 

M\ mind reverts to da^s of vore. 
And friendships, pure and true. 

'I'he school-house standing ow the 
\\ here 1 was wont to go. 

1 seem to see my plav mates tiiere, 
As fort\' vears ago. 



30 



Mrs. n a r roll's Poems. 

The school-house stands not on tlie hill. , 

Where once it used to be ; 
Thoug"h laro-e enou<>h and room to spare. 

For fiftN' more and me. 

Two (Hstricts now are formed of one. 

To each the children g-o. 
Though all united went to one. 

vSome forty years ago. 

Upon the school-house playing ground. 

There stood a lovely tree ; 
The man \vho planted it, long since 

On earth has ceased to be. 

To Peru's comt. b\ Congress sent. 

One died, though sad 'tis so. 
Who chopped a limb and maimed tliat tree. 

Some forty \ears ago. 

Thouo'h wild in youth a noble man. 

He chmbed the hill of fame ; 
And worthy of his ancestry. 

He honored well the name. 

His son the Navv graces now. 

And history will show 
The name has stood in bold relief 

Twice forty years ago. 

A stranger hand has cut that tree. 

And nothing now is found. 
To mark where stood the school-house once. 

Except the rise of ground. 

Not far away an oaken tree 

Has weathered wind and snow ; 

Upon whose limbs the children swung. 
vSome forty years ago. 

When school dismissed, what hosts of fun. 

They made the welkin ring : 
vVs down the liill they liaste away. 

To reach the cr\stal s]:>ring. 



Forty Tears Ago. 31 

The cider mill and aqueduct. 

Where too we used to go. 
I well remember how thev looked 

vSome forty \'ears aj^o. 

Among the man\' funny things. 

Were some which were more sad : 
When some who had superior strength 

Abused the \yeaker lad. 

AV as fini when boys the gauntlet rim. 

All pelting one \yith snow : 
Those boys, now gra\-. how swift cIicn ran. 

Some forty years ago. 

Those pretty girls how jovous then. 

They lauGfhed. antl danced, and sunjr : 
And many new {le\ices sought. 

If only it were fun. 

The\ learned their 1)ooks and nccdle-work. 

Some specimens 1 K:now 
Are vyell preseryed in gcxKl re]:)air. 

Wrought tbrtv years ago. 

Not so are many then so fair 

With hearts so light and gay ; 
For some are not. those liying changed. 

Their heads are turning gray. 

Some, homes haye sought in distant lands. 

But some remain to show 
They loye the farms their fatliers owned. 

Some fort}' years ago. 

A black eyed girl who loyed her books. 

Rewards of merit \yon : 
Has ^rone from here. far. far away. 

Her home is Oreyfon. 

Some brayes have gone to fight in war. 

Whose parents well I know. 
W'ho Used to meet in that old school 

House, some forty years ago, 



32 Afj's. Barro77\^ Poems. 

We read the Bible in the morn. 

wSome teachers thev would prav ; 
Then teach us of our duty, how 

To learn tlie better way. 

Good niorals. from our co])i.es wrote. 

In wisdom's \yays to go : 
Of lastino- worth those precepts were. 

Learned forty \'ears ago, 

I neyer \ et haye known a youth. 

Who w ent to school that time : 
Was ever in a prison shut. 

Or punished for a crime. 

3ix motliers onl\ now siu"\i\e. 
The records cannot show 

Of one siuAiying father, wiio 
Lived forty \ears ago. 

One teacher wliom we used to love. 

A missionary went : 
The pagans taught to worship God. 

With them her life she sj^ent. 

■ The Sandwich Islands was the ])lace 
VVherfe she was called to go. 
Oh. how ^ve loved to liear her talk. 
vSome forty years ago. 

Above, below the school-house, there 
Six brothers used to li\e : 

Their father once did o\\ n the w hole. 
To each a farm did gi\e. 

•Two miles, the lo\ely Merrimac 

Beside that farm did flow. 
It washes now the boinuls as then. 
Some fort\' years ago. 

'J'hree onU of those houses stand. 

In which those brothers lived I 
And none live there to bear the naine, 

Though some elsewhere .survive. 



Port)' Years Ago. 33 

Tlic lioiisc in which the old man hved. 

Is burned, and naiig'ht I know. 
Except the barn remains, wliich seems 

Like forc\- years ago. 

Tlie cider mill and water trouoh. 

Where once we used to play ; 
For many vears lon<^ since unused. 

Have all i^one to (leca> . 

The tiock of geese we used to see. 

Some brown, some white as snow : 
We had their quills to make our pens. 

Some tort\' vears ago. 

Dow n on the street a tavern stood. 

Capacious house and barn ; 
The country teamsters 'round their tires 

WouUl sjDin adventurous varus. 

At earl\ dawn they harnessed up.. 

Nor stop for wind or snow. 
With merr\ bells what lines of teams 

\\ ent fort\ \ears ago. 

The landlord and his wife are not. 

The premises are sold. 
The horse-shed has been all remoxed 

BecauseMecaNed and old. 

How often wlien we went to school. 

In going to and fro ; 
I've stopped to w^arm me. l)v their hres. . 

Some fort\' years ago. 

\^'hen scholars met their elders then. 

Thev dare not do as now. 
For every lad must doff his hat. 

And make a handsome bow. 

And everv lass a courtesy. 

Though standing in the snow : 
To everv stranger passing l)v. 

Some forts' vears aiio. 



34 



All's. jBarron's Poems. 

.\lthc)u<^li the scliool-house now is j^one. 

And ancient ]:>c(^]:»le too ; 
Though sonic old houses ha\e been razed, 

Tlieir phicc su})]:)hed ^\'ith new : 

\\\k\ chti'ercnt liands now till the soil. 

'Jliose farms 1 think will show 
As much of nature's beautv now. 

As fort\' vears a"-o. 



ADDRESS OF WELCOME 

TO PARENTS. TKACUKRS AM) FRIKXDS AT THK LMON I'KNIC 
IX A (.iROVK Ar THE HO.AUC OK MV t^HILDUOOD. 



SPOKEN IJV ONE OF THE SCHOLARS. 



Althou<j:h the sun is fixed in v(Hider skv. 

He i^iveth light and heat to ail w^e know" ; 
Our FTeavenlv Father though He lives on high. 

Me made that sun and siars and all below. 

He made this grove and grass l)eneath so o^reen ; 

The herd upon the lawn that roam so free : 
And e\erv thing that l^v our eyes are seen. 

He made vou all mv friends, and He made me 

He })lanted in our hearts a germ to grow ; 
'Tis friendship, let us noui"ish it with care ; 
May each one of us to his fellow show. 

That as his joys, his troubles we will share. 

And you oiu* friends to-day \yho join us here. 
We bid you welcome to our joys and fare ; • 

Partake of oin' repast and general cheer, 

Accept the assurance, that oin* love vou share. 

And may we never know in times like now. 

A district number eleven or number four : 
But a true friendship formed, in future show 

Like as our parents did. in da\s of vore. 



Ill ( • C la ))i Ba k c . 

Parents and teaxhers pk-asc accept this (la\ 
Our heartfelt gratitiicle for fa^ ors oi\ en ; 

Thoiiorh for \'our u,reat solicitude, we cainiot pa\'. 

Oil. may yoii find your s/irc reward in Jicavcn. 



35 



THE CLAM BAKE 



When the Great Universal Creator of all. 
Mad quite finished the eartli and it rolled as a ball. 
Mad made man, and made alsoenoui^h for his food : 
Looking- on \\\\^^ complacenc\ called it all {^^ood. 

But vet Moses declared there nuist be some mistake. 
For all kinds of food \\ as not s^ood to partake ; 
There Avere 1)ir(ls. niatiy kinds, which were not fit to eat. 
And of aniinals too that were not oyxxI for meat. 

If an animal's feet were not cloven in two. 

It was siu'ely unclean and it never woidd do : 

[f it chew not its cud it was even as bad. 

vSo much food to l)e wasted might seem ratlier sad. 

lUit an animal perfect, that chewed his cud well. 
And with feet that were clo\en. with favor would tell. 
vSo the horse was rejected ; though some have belief. 
That it makes a good substitute CAen for beef. 

^\nd a swine when well fattened, some people conclude. 
That a steak, ox a roast, or the lard is quite good ; 
That the meat when well salted is good w ith boiled greens ; 
^Vnd without it one scarcelv can cook anv beans. 

And the hsh of the waters, that too ever fails. 
To be fit for to eat. unless covered with scales ; 
And though iVloses did tell the Jews not to eat hams. 
Vet he never has said any thing about clams. 

Though he taught them be sure how to make a short 

cake, 
I^ut he never has told how to make a clam bake. 
And if I should attempt it, most likely that I 
Should indeed make a failure, but vet I can trv. 



36 J/rs. Barron s Poems. 

It was not lon«- aj<o. that a man liad a mind 
Tt) inform ns. to (It'inonstrate. 't\vas very kind. 
On tlic bank ol ibc Penniclnick notice was o-i\en. 
That liis friends niii^lit ^o tiiere and examine his o\en. 

\\ e arrixed at die spot, and there soon it was found 
That a nice excavation was made in the groinid. 
Was perhaps a foot deep, or it miglit have l'>een more. 
And sufficient chmensions for wliat was in store. 

When tlie earth was (Xvv^ out the next tiling- to be done. 
Was, to pave it, tlie sides and the bottom, with stones; 
Then to kindle a fire, and to pile on the wood. 
For two hours and a half, kee]:) it heatin<^ u]:> ^-ood. 

When sufficiently heated then rake oH' the tire. 
And as all thin<4"s were read} which one could desire. 
Then, the clams first were emptied into the hold, 
(^uite enou<2^h iuul to spare, were two barrels Tm told. 

Then potatoes in quarters, both Irisli and sweet. 

Then o^reen corn, with few husks on, to keep it all neat : 

Then to make up \ariety. perfect the dish. 

Were (each se\ve(l in a cloth) a nice lot of fresh fish. 

When the whole was piled on, it was all done with 

speed. 
Then a can\as to keep it all clean, it did need. 
Next to that, were two barrels of rockweed I deem. 
Over all some wet leaves, for to keep in the steam. 

As the pile while a bakin<2^ it needed some care. 
For to keep down the steam, so the (gentlemen there 
Watched it closely, with weapons, and made themselves 

iv^ n , 
And in just half an hour it was all nicely done. 

iVll additional fixin<ys were ready before. 

And a table snfficient for thirty or more ; 

W^ith enough melted butter to eat with the clams 

None could wish auoht to add had they chickens or lamb. 

Shall 1 speak of some pepper, first course not last. 
Which for no other name I will call pepper sauce ; 



The Clam Bake. yn 

For the dessert were melons fresh picked, very nice, 
So that all who desired could eat a suffice. 

Do you ask who the guests were wdio helped eat the 
• clams, 

Well sir they were the cliildren of old Uncle Sam's ; 
All his children are soyereigns as all men do know. 
They are known the world oyer whereyer they o-o. 

Massachusetts she furnished one man for the work. 
And he got up the treat, not a bit of a shirk ; 
Other things he can do with success and with skill. 
Can make chemical compounds or roll up a pill. 

He's a dealer in drugs, and if any would know. 
Then giye Lawton a call and the fact he will show. 

From the old state of Georgia, there also was one 
Who assisted in work full of wit and of fun ; 
He makes cloth for the thousands, thus Cogin does good, 
And may leaye it for others, to cater for food. 

And as one vyould expect, from New Hampshire were 

more. 
On some other occasions we'ye met them before : 
There is Baldwin makes drawers, the merchant's relief. 
And it holds his cash safely secure from the thief. 

There was Parker, the statesman, we know well his face. 
And wherever he is he presides with a grace ; 
If he makes one a coat or has one made to sell. 
Or resides on a farm, what he does he does well. 

There were vSpaldings, two brothers, and men of some 

fame. 
And their talents and characters honor the name ; 
There were Eayrses who work at the drugs with the mill, 
They all know the trade well and they do it with skill. 

There were doctors, the first Dr. Graves I will name, 
For his age and experience has given him fame, 
Lookinof healthy and fair as a midsummer's day. 
May he live to grow old, and do good all the way. 



38 Mrs. Barron^s PoeTtis. 

And among the physicians was one Dr. Eayrs, 
He is skillful in practice and surgeon of care ; 
He is also a dentist, makes teeth extra good. 
And much better than old ones to masticate food. 

And another young man, Dr. Currier too, 
A successful practitioner honest and true ; 
May his life through the future be one of success, 
Have such care of his patients that all convalesce. 

There were others perhaps I might mention some one, 
For to furnish good milk surely BoWers has done ; 
And the ladies and lasses all pleasant and foir 
Are not often excelled, for the number were there. 



UNCLE SAM. 



When Uncle Sam grew up a stately lad, 
He claimed a right to call himself a man ; 

His mother thought, because she always had. 
That she might always lead him by the hand. 

He had the means to make himself a home, 
And thought he had a right to till his farm ; 

But she insisted that he must not roam, 

To buy his clothes and tea it would do harm. 

She said he should not put his breeches on 

If he should get them made without her leave ; 

But he should still wear petticoats quite long, 
That mortified him much and made him grieve. 

He bore the wrong because his mother said 
It would be wicked should he disobev ; 

She sometimes sent him hungry off to bed. 
Or tied his hands, lest he should run awav. 

One day she fixed him up a dose of tea. 

So strong it tasted bitter to his taste ; 
Provoked to madness, snatched the cup awa}- 

And threw its contents in his mother's face. 



Uncle Sam. 39 

That raised her iiuhg-nation up so high, 

She threatened him with punishment severe ; 

He told her, she had better mind his eye. 

For now his whiskers o-rew, from ear to ear. 

So wisely as she thought, to make a show, 
Ordered her clerk to make her out a writ ; 

She put it in the hands of sheriff How^e, 
Gave him a posse, and a good outfit. 

So he approached one corner of Sam's farm. 

With an intent to take it all away ; 
Or fill the yoinigstei^'s heart with such alarm. 

As make him yield obedience to her sway. 

Sam sh()^^ ed lie had the stature of a man ; 

Had right to rule his servants and his farm ; 
Thought he coidd wisely execute or plan ; 

Nor would be governed even by his marm. 

So with some other reasons good and true, 
Were grounds for the defence he went about ; 

He organized his plan, he had men too^ 
His plan could execute and carrv out. 

He had a host of men whom he could trust, 
Knew how to make his ditches, w^alls or fence. 

Each ready with a will, to be the first 

To raise his arm in Uncle Sam's defence. 

His servants they were brave and men of fame. 

And history recorded good and true ; 
I can't enumerate one-half their names. 

But surely they were neither small or few. 

A few^ perhaps I may from memory name, 

One was called George, so good and true w^as he ; 

Brave and a civil engineer of fame. 

He gave him power his farm to oversee. 

As all wxre w^illing George should take the head, 
To take his good advice they all agreed ; 

Willing to follow^ wdiere the chieftain led, 
And fight their foes until the fLirm was freed. 



40 Mi's. Barron^s Poems. 

Among those many worthies I could name, 

Willing- and wise ; could work with head or hands, 

But common names ; Ben, Thomas, John and James 
And Alexander all could work or plan. 

Some held the plough, the toughest sward to break. 
While others planted seed, helped make it grow ; 

While some could swing the scythe, perhaps the rake. 
While others might as wisely use the hoe. 

Those ploughing turned the fin^rows deep and wide ; 

Some (jfathered stones, and made walls strong: and sfood ; 
Others dug ditches, water turned aside. 

The soil could then bear fruit and grain for food. 

They drove the intruders from the farm away, 
And then, they went to work and built a house : 

A goddess came there from her home of day. 

Showed Uncle Sam she would his cause espouse. 

A germ she brought, though tender, without harm ; 

She planted it, and soon it grew a tree ; 
Ere long all those wlio worked upon the farm 

Could share its fruit, she named it Liberty. 

So wisely did she oversee the house. 

His servants trusty worked so well his farm ; 

His confidence more firm, than first aroused, 
Assured him. he could live without his marm. 

He grew to be more wealthy and more wise, 
Then looked around for land that he coidd buy ; 

As often as the chances did arise. 

He purchased land, were it remote or nigh. 

As his dominions grew^ so very large 

It needed wisest heads to oversee ; 
So faithful those who had the farm in charge, 

Made it a home for the oppressed and free. 

Sometimes the stones got loose upon the w^all, 
And seemed as all would topple to the ground ; 

But all his servants faithful to his call. 
Soon readjusted it and made it sound. 



An Old Table. 

Though he has Hved a hundred years or more, 
His constitution being strong- and good, 

Has seldom needed treatment heretofore 

As man}' with less faith and courage would. 

His servants made his carriages with skill. 

He buys and sells what merchandise he please 

Can circumnavigate the earth at will, 

Or choosing, stay at home and take his ease. 

He looks quite fresh, is e\'en looking fair. 
He holds his head erect as in his youth ; 

One might expect him stooping with gray hair. 
But he is neither gray or bald in truth. 

God bless our Uncle Sam, long may he live. 
Do good to all as he has ever done ; 

And mav his neiofhbors learn of him to thrive. 
And trv to reach tlie goal that he has won. 

His mother might perhaps of him learn much. 

Though she lived to be old ere he was born. 
His breeches which he dojined are even such 

As keep the texture good, have never torn. 



41 



AN OLD TABLE. 



I will tell you a story, as well as I'm able 
Of nw fort^■ vears life in the house with five ""ables ; 
Of my life before that no one knows it so well. 
And I ken no one living, my history can tell. 

But sutiice it to say, a }oung bride and bridegroom, 
Took a fancy to me and provided me room ; 
Then their hearts young and gay in the morn of their pride. 
Always constant at meals, alwavs sat bv their side. 

They had one little daughter, young, happy and fair. 
By my side she would sit in her little high chair ; 
She would chat and look happy, not knowing regret. 
Always ready I held up her plate when she eat. 



42 Mrs. Sarron^s Poems. 

But as things that are useful by fashion arranged, 
It was so too wit// ???e, and my duties were changed, 
For my size was diminished, I donned a new dress. 
Yet I served not at meals, that was mv time to rest. 

But I always continued supporting the light. 
And the paper and ink for my friends who would write. 
And I think I may claim more than many my betters, 
I have helped to write more than a thousand good letters. 

Then if any would read, I assisted them too. 
While the others had sewing or knitting to do ; 
Or if nothing to do they sat down for a chat, 
I was alwa}s thought useful by this one or that. 

If any w^ere sleepy I held up their head. 
Or if too sick to sit up. I sat by their bed ; 
Held specifics and nourishments day or bv night. 
But I never neglected to hold up the light. 

I assisted the doctor to make up his pills. 

Having good understanding helped make out his bills ; 

The lawyer, while student, his lessons to get. 

And though tar, far awav, he remembers me yet. 

Now my master and mistress and daughter are deiid. 
The doctor too sleeps in his low narrow bed ; 
Things as useful as I now have found a new home. 
And the house with five gables is empty alone. 

When I left that lo\'ed dwelling some friends still were there 
Who regretted my leaving, for me shed a tear ; 
Now a friend of my mistress has taken me home. 
And by serving her well, shall repay for my room. 

I will faithfully serve her by day or by night. 
But the best of all service is hold up the light ; 
And if all were as willing as I to do right, 
How much evil would vanish, much more would look 
bright. 

Those are^some of the merits for which I have fame : 
You may like now to know how I look and my name ; 
I have no claim to beauty, my color is sable, 
I'm an old fashioned octagon three legged table. 



The Farmer's Welcome. 43 

THE FARMER'S WELCOME. 



My friends, I have a pleasant farm, 
Convenient house and good sized barn ; 
And when my farm is all well tilled, 
My house and barn are both well filled. 
Come mv friends, come and see 
What a nice farm belong-s to me. 



"&' 



I have a wife so kind and good. 

Who makes mv clothes and cooks my food ; 

My joys and sorrows both she shates. 

And helps to lighten all my cares. 
Come mv friends, come and sec 
What a nice wife belongs to me. 

Two darling children, girl and boy. 
They fill our'cup to brim with joy ; 
At night I take them on my knee. 
How dear those darlings are to me. 
Come my friends, come and see 
The children that belong to me. 

I have the best I find of cows. 

I feed with grass or from the mows ; 

Their hair is red, and soft as silk, 

Thev yield me plenty of good milk. 
Come my friends, come and see 
What nice cows belong to me. 

When I go out at early morn. 
To feed my fowls with oats and corn ; 
The rooster marching to and fro. 
Rears up his head and loud does crow. 
Come my friends, come and see 
What nice fowls belong to me. 

The turkev gobbler comes along. 

And gobble, gobble, is his song ; 

The old hen turkev here may sit. 

And she jumps up and sings quit, quit. 
Come my friends, come and see 
The turkeys that belong to me. 



44 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

I have some ducks, the canvas-back, 
They always sing their quack, quack, quack ; 
I have both white and colored geese, 
They sing quaw, quaw, and then they hiss. 
Come my friends, come and see 
The ducks and geese belong to me. 

I have a few merino sheep. 

To furnish wool I alwavs keep ; 

And every year I shear a crop, 

And save the meat for mutton chop. 
Come my friends, come and see 
What nice sheep belong to me. 

My dog he tends the sheep and cows. 
To make them mind he savs bow ! wow ! 
I have a faithful malta cat, 
She catches up the mice and rats. 
Come my friends, come and see 
The dog and cat belong to me. 

I keep good swine, I bought a pig. 
And brouo^ht him home in my own gig ; 
The pig did squeal, the horse did run. 
The boys all laughed to see the fun. 
Come my friends, come and see 
The porkers that belong to me. 

I raise good fruit of every kind. 

To satisfy my taste and mind ; 

My every want and need they serve, 

For eating raw, or make preserve. 
Come my friends, come and see 
What nice fruit belongs to me. 

I've plenty too of table sauce. 
And every kind of grain or grass ; 
All that I raise of each is good. 
For man or beast which needs for food. 
Come my friends, come and see 
The plenty that belongs to me. 



The Farmer''s Welcome, ^^ 

Mv wife makes cheese unci butter too. 

Which can't be beat I'll prove it so ; 

She made some up with such nice care. 

She won the premium at the fair. 
Come my friends, come and see 
The butter and cheese belong- to me. 

She makes good bread both white and brown. 
As anv housewife in the town ; 
And makes good pastry of all kinds. 
As any lady you can find. 

Come mv friends, come and see 

What a good cook belongs to me. 

When I am sick she makes my bed. 

And bathes my burning, aching head ; 

When both are well each w^ills to share 

The burdens of each other's cares. 
Come mv friends, come and see 
Wliat a good nurse belongs to me. 

W^e always keep a bed to spare. 
Our friend may come and ahvays share 
The welcome that my house affords. 
In actions quite as well as words. 

Come my friends, come and see 

The welcome that belongs to me. 

If poverty^ approach my door. 
His wants I'll answer from mv store ; 
Nor shall one say when I am dead. 
He never gave the poor a bed. 

Come my friends, come and see 

The pity that belongs to me. 

We envy not the king his crown, 
We ask not w^ealth or great renown ; 
Continue blessings as before, 
W^e need not nor would ask for more. 

Come my friends, come and see 

The blessings that belong to me. 



46 Mrs. Barron^s Pocm^. 

ALY LITTLE PARTY 

ON MV SIX rv-Ku;ii ru hikthdav 



'Tis not a niira^v 1 have vscen. 

So cheering", looking- bright and green ; 

But an oasis found to-dav. 

To cheer me on \w\ lonelv waw 

Oasis, never sound was lieard. 
More \velct)nie than that liopeful word : 
Where wears travellers tread the plain. 
'Neath Inu'ning- suns no hojDe tor rain. 

This is niv birthdav getting late, 
Mv vears now ninnber sixtN-eight : 
Approaching near ni\ journe\ "s end. 
Toward that goal in\ footsteps tend. 

Though nunn blessiuirs I'n e recei\etl. 
From Him who has the power to give. 
But in mv home I am alone. 
No child whom I can call mv own. 

Two lads my tViciids I like to greet. 
Had been mv neighbors on the street. 
Called in and asked might thev invite 
The children near, I said thev might. 

To have a social time and phu". 
On this my sixty-eighth birtlulav : 
They came, nine darlings, bright and lair 
As blossoms making sweet the air. 

Some had black eves and some had blue. 
And all UK)ked happ\ . good and true ; 
I plaved with them, I thought it meet 
To make their happiness complete. 

The barberry bush we danced around. 
Did all that in that play is found ; 
Played button button, that, and more. 
And dropped the cushion on the floor. 



The Arts. 47 

They spoke some pieces, sung some songs. 

In harmony both sweet and strong ; 

And each and all did well their part. 

It pleased the young, and cheered my heart. 

And when they came to say good bye, 
Each looked at ine with their bright eyes ; 
And reached their lips up for a kiss. 
Could I help being pleased with this? 

Now friends do you not think it is 
A bright green spot, an oasis ? 
Strength to my weary mind will lend, 
To aid me toward my journey's end. 

When the last milestone I have passed, 
And lay me dow n to rest at last ; 
Please kindly think of me when seen, 
Lay on my grave an evergreen, 

An emblem that of purity 

As well as immortality ; 

And mav we meet when life is o'er, 

Where friendship lasts forevermore. 



THE ARTS. 



When Hermes paints within the brain 
Of genius, an inventive thought ; 

That fount of motion can't regain 
Its quiet, till the plan is wrought. 

Then other gods are soon invoked. 
To help accomplish the design ; 

If Vulcan be the one provoked. 
He pales the metal from the mine. 

Then may be heard the bellows blow, 
The music of the anvil's din ; 

The sweat now from the brow must flow, 
If man the prize expects to win. 



48 Mrs. Barro7i^s Poems. 

Vulcan alone works not to-day, 

As when he made Achilles' shield ; 

The muscles must the brain obey. 
Or win no laurels in the field. 

A mind of genius should not let 

A thought lie dormant in the brain ; 

Its promptings should at once be met. 
Lest it should never prompt again. 

As on my brain these thoughts are traced, 
May be the Muses sketched them there ; 

This passing moment I embrace, 
And pen on paper what they are. 

When anchor 's weighed and sails unfurled, 

A vessel starts upon the seas, 
How smoothly will she glide along, 

When Boreas favors with a breeze. 

But should he grow irascible, 

And wake old Neptune from the deep, 

Like furies they will grow the waves, 
LTntil they look like mountains steep. 

Then how she dashes o'er the wave. 

Or sinks again quite out of sight ; 
Oft o'er her decks the briny waves 

Rush, as if vengeance ruled from right. 

Then how the sailors pale from fright. 

Their strength grows weak from toil antl care. 
And when Hy peri an hides the light. 

Their minds are tortured by despair. 

When Iris comes with various hues. 

She's always dressed in gay attire. 
She ever fills the tar with hope, 

Her beaiitv all the gods admire. 

Boreas and Neptune though enraged. 
When she appears so good and brave ; 

The former quietly retires. 

The latter sinks and lulls the waves. 



N'0%if Tec/r*s Dciy Moi'ning, 

The ship may then with safety glide. 
With I'igging righted, sails unfurled ; 

And ere she reach her wharf again 
May circumnavigate the world. 

When in the spring the seed-time comes. 

The farmer plants and sows his grain ; 
Apollo, Neptune, each in turn 

Supplies the earth Vv'ith warmtli and rain. 

And when Apollo's influence cools. 
And Ceres comes to have the sway. 

Then less of Neptune's service needs. 
Then hearts of harvest men are gay. 

Then ply the sickle to the grain. 

And garner up the golden ears ; 
Of pinching winter have no dread, 
- For plenty has no want to fear. 



NEW YEAR'S DAY MORNING, 

JAN. 1st, 1880. 



I'll ope the windows for the light, 
Come kiss me sun, you look so bright ; 
You've driven all the stars away, 
Nox had to leave when chased by da v. 

Though I am old and left alone, 
God's sun through all my dav has shone ; 
Still lights my path and cheers my way. 
On this bright morn, this New Year's Day 

Last night when died the closing year. 
No one to speak to me was near. 
But God came, zvith His still small voice 
Spoke peace my soul might still rejoice. 

Look at the moon, He seemed to say. 
She's smiling with her silvery rays ; 
Not equal to the sun's rays quite. 
But better for your rest at night. 



50 Afrs. Barron's Poe?ns> 

Small blessings rightly understood, 
Are dealt out to us for our good ; 
I need not fear to trust whose hand 
Supplies niv wants. He iuiderstands. 



A PET KITTEN. 



Now my prett}' little kitty. 
She is dead and gone for aye ; 

And it seems so sad a pity, 
That T cannot see her plav. 

I had thought if she kept growing, 
She would soon be a big cat ; 

And that she \vould be so knowing. 
She would catch the mice and rats. 

She ^vas treated fust as kindly, 
As a petted child could be ; 

And perhaps was just as blindly 
Killed with kindness, that may be. 

Now she is not any better 

Than a once loyed worn out liat ; 
Or a cherished old love letter. 

Or some other lost pet cat. 



SUNNY JUNE. 



This is sunny June indeed. 
Just such ^veather as we need ; 
Mostly sunshine, sometimes rain. 
Good for man. and grass, and grain. 

Sun is shinin<2: brio-ht and fair. 
White clouds floating in the air ; 
Sky is loyely, looks so blue, 
As iust dyed with a/ure hue. 



Some T^hings Hard To Believe. 5 1 

SOME THINGS HARD TO BELIEVE. 



And must I suffer when I die, 
For not believing- that which I 
Cannot, that once the sun stood still. 
To see the Jews and Canaanites kill 
Each other, and that Joshua, 
Who was the General of the day. 
Had so much power before' the Lord. 
The Sim and moon ol^eyed his word. 

That God commanded Joshua, 
That all the people he must slay ; 
That male and female, great and small. 
Should bv the sword of Israel fall ; 
That God told Joshua the priests 
With horns of rams for trimipets haste. 
Around the walls of Jcriclio. 
For seven successive days should blow. 

That they should on the se^•enth day 
Go seven times round, and blast away ; 
And wdien they shouted loud and bawled, 
Down tumbled all the city wall. 
The prophet Jonah in a gale 
Slipped down the gullet of a whale. 
Which was no bigger than an arm. 
Without receiying any harm. 

He lived secure, three days and nights ; 

And breathed no air, and saw no light. 

And then" ejected on dry land, 

A wiser and a healthy man. 

When Hezikiah king was sick, 

God told Isaiah to go quick 

And tell him he should surely die. 

Nor did he give the reason why. 

* But Hezekiah did not choose 
The ties of life so soon to loose ; 
He turned his face to God and prayed ; 
And God repented what he said, 



5i Mrs. JBari'oti's Poeins. 

He heard his prayer and saw his tears. 
Prolonged his hfe yet fifteen years, 
To prove the fact his mind to ease, 
He turned the sun back ten desfrees. 



NEARING MY JOURNEY'S END. 



Now all my friends are dead, 
And all my tears are shed. 

And all my hopes are fled far away ; 
Old age is on the gain, 
And life is on the wane. 

And soon I'll reach life's closing: hour of day. 
Lord make thy lamp 'gro\v bright, 
Dispel the dark of night, 

And faith dispel the dimness of my eyes, 
As through this vale of tears 
I've \yalked these many years. 

And hoped to gain a mansion in the skies. 
No merit of my own, 
Thy mercy 'tis alone 

Through which I hope in hea\en a home to gain, 
I know that Thou art near 
An humble prayer ^yill hear 

And answer in Thine own good chosen time. 
And when my life is past 
And I get home at last 

No more I'll need to pray but praise be Thine. 
When I get to life's shore, 
Can step on land no more, 

The river may look dark to human e3*es ; 
Then make it bright to me 
And give me faith to see 

Celestial light reflected from the skies. 



A Toting Wife. 53 

A YOUNG WIFE. 



A lovelv o'irl became a bride. 

With hopes and prospects fair and bright, 
Her father's Joy, her husband's piide, 

Too soon those hopes began to bhght. 

I hitely saw her on her bed, 

With suffering pictured on her brow, 
I questioned, must she soon be dead, 

Alust die so soon, must leave us now? 

Her husband, must he give her up, 

And journey on again alone ? 
That only daughter, father's hope. 

Must pass from earth, so soon be gone. 

A still small voice I heard repl}' , 

"She's ripe for heaven, and 'tis mv will. 
Nor need you ask the reason wh}, 
But say to sorrow, peace be still." 

God laid His hand upon her brow, 
And death has sealed her lips for aye. 

Her spirit gone to heaven now. 
Her home where is eternal da}-. 

Then dry voiu" tears ye mourning friends. 
And hope that when your davs are o'er, 

That God will grant you'll meet again. 
In union live forevermore. 



TO MINNIE. 



I am thinking now of Minnie, 
That blessed, darling child. 

Sitting upon her mother's lap^ 
So innocent and mild^ 



54 ]\/rs. Ban'ori's Poems. 

As \vhen the other dav I saw. 

I seem to see her now. 
The embodiment of peace and love. 

Depicted on her brow. 

Ma\' she be spared, long mav she live 
To bless her parent's life : 

Nor have to tread life's thornv way. 
Nor mini^le in its strife. 

But be as pure as she is now. 

As angels sent from heaven. 
To bring- the tidings God has sent. 

His peace to mortals gi\'en. 



THE TEMPLE OF LIBERTY 



Our own Temple of Liberty. nol)le and grand ; 

It was not built at random, or set on the sand ; 

But the old Revolution it graded the ground. 

And the frost walls laid deep that they might remain sound. 

Thecement.it was made of the l^lood cjf our sires. 
And was dried bv the heat of those patriot fires : 
All the work was laid out by the compass and square. 
And they used. too. the level, the plumb and scale there. 

It was Hermes who sketched on the brain of those men. 
All the plan for the building, and Houris. the when 
The first stone should be laid ; Juh' Fourth it was fixed. 
In the vear seventeen hundred and se\"enty and six. 

The foundation when laid Avas prepared to receive 
Such a structure as Avisdom combined could conceive ; 
So a broad Constitution was formed which should blend 
Both utilitv. beautv and strength to the end. 



The apartments when finislied were only thirteen. 
With transparent partitions uncurtained and clean : 
And a hall in the centre which lighted the \\hole. 
As the bodv receiveth its life from the souL 



.___. /___ 



A Cross Made of Hair. 55 

As the goddess presiding', new vot'ries inspired. 
With the love of her beaut\'. her favors desired ; 
When they wanted admittance new rooms were prepared. 
With such favors and light as the others had shared. 

Of the heralds of freedom, she sent many forth. 
Each proclainiing a welcome to south and to north ; 
From the east to the west she would have them combine. 
Seek a home in her temple and near to her shrine. 

vSo new rooms have been added in years that liave passed, 
Of such form and proportion from first to the last ; 
Lighted each from the centre, rights equal and free. 
And the numl^er at present is thirtv and three. 



A CROSS MADE OF HAIR. 



When vou look on this memento. 
Which tliese aged hands have made 

From these locks combed from my temples ; 
Time has turned to different shades. 

Mav it help \ ou to rememl)er, 
Hov\' I loved }Ou when a child ; 

As vou taught me to be patient, 
I would teacli you to be mild. 

When God wills it I shall leave you, 
Thouo-h sometime I may survive ; 

Sixty-two, my years now number. 
And your age is only five. 

Twenty-fifth day of ISovember. 

Eighteen hundred seventy-one ; 
Life w^ith me is nearly ending, 

Life with you is just begun. 

JMay \ou prove a lasting comfort. 
To your parents God has given ; 

Always tr}' to do, and be good. 
By and by we'll meet in heaven* 



^6 Mrs. Barron^s Poems. 

We shall know each other darling, 
When we meet in heaven above ; 

Where God's glory is eternal. 
And eternal is His love. 



A SURPRISE PARTY. 



Here we come as friends and neighbors, 

Bringing tokens of regard ; 
We won Id not increase vonr labors. 

Neither make yonr lot more hard. 

Some may feel and do declare it, 

Friendship long ago is dead ; 
She has not been dead but sleeping. 

May be in her quiet bed. 

She has 'wakened, I belive it, 
She's awake, at least, this day, 

Has inspired these friends and neighbors, 
To proclaim it, in this way. 

We believe you'll bid us welcome. 

Open hearts and cordial hands : 
Ah I I know that you will bid us 

Welcome, as a friendly band. 

We have not been forced to come here. 

But are happy thus to do ; 
And believe we'll place new laurels 

On the bro\v of friendship true. 

Such a gathering friends and neighbors, 

In the join^ney of our days ; 
Like Oases in the desert. 

Brightens life in many ways. 

Were it not for social greetings. 

Many hearts would sink with grief; 

But how oft in saddest moments, 
Happy smiles will bring relief. 



The Benevolent Sexvlng Circle. ^^ 

Oft I've proved the v^'ise man's proverb, 

When he was inspired to say 
Better is a friend and neighbor. 

Than a lirother far awav. 

Oft in sickness and in sorrow, 

Neiofhbors near have made mv bed ; 

Done me many deeds of kindness. 
And have bathed my aching head. 

Dear to me are all my neighbors, 

One and all am glad to meet ; 
And I wish not for a better 

Place to live than Granite Street. 

Let ns while our lives continue, 

Aim to do what good we can ; 
So we when our life is ended. 

Not regret what might have been. 

When we will not look with sadness. 

On the days of long ago ; 
Hope to meet again in gladness. 

Friends that we may leave below. 



THE BENEVOLENT SEWING CIRCLE. 



A I'jand of sisters here we meet, 
Rejoicing each a friend to greet ; 
Our aim is one, our end the same, 
Though many members but one name. 

We wish distinction not to know, 
Partiality would never show ; 
Be it the aim of every one. 
In goodness not to be outdone. 

And may we set our standard high, 
Of action, point to the sky : 
Though we perfection may not gain, 
Yet to that mark should be our aim. 



^S Afrs. Barrou^s Poems. 

And may the means that we possess. 
Be used to mitigate distress ; 
No hixniy ol^tained from food. 
Compares ^vith that of doing good. 

May ne\er prejudice be known. 
Within a bosom of our own : 
Each aim to imitate the best. 
Have charity for all tlie rest. 

. And may each meeting always pro^ e 
That it is harmonized by lo^•e ; 
May each some new idea find. 
Worthy to treasure in the mind. 

In every heart be found a place. 
Where germinates some heavenlv grace 
W^hich being fostered da}' by daN", 
Its leaves and branches will display. 

Extending through the heart and mind. 
So that their influence combine 
To root out all obnoxious weeds. 
Which to disgrace might ever lead. 

Pride will put on an humble dress. 
And quiet vanity to rest ; 
Modesty dress in her attire. 
Which virtue always does admire. 

May envy never enter here, 
Nor one of Hydra's heads appear ; 
Nor aught arise, which can alloy 
The peace and friendship we enjoy. 

When we on earth shall cease to meet. 
May we ao'ain each other oreet, 

.,0 o 

In that abode beyond the skies, 
Where sin lives not, nor virtue dies. 



Old Age and Childhood, 59 

OLD AGE 'AND CHILDHOOD. 



I like to look back to the clays of my childhood, 
When I went to school on a long summer day ; 

How we sought for a shade from the sun 'neath the wild 
wood, 
And we gathered wild flowers or plumbs by the way. 

Every child has all the trouble, 

He can bear from da}- to dav ; 
Thou it be a bursting bubble 

He is blowing, for his pla}'. 

Children match themselves for running, 

All are happy when begun ; 
But to feel that one is beaten., 

Puts a damper on the fun. 

Some go coasting down the hillside. 
Scarcely does the play commence ; 

Unexpectedly the sled goes 

Butt, against the tree or fence. 

Age looks back when they were children, 
Tell how happy they were then ; 

Children are not moi*e contented, 
But will be when they are men. 

So we live anticipating 

Something good, some future day ; 

When \NQ ought to sip what nector 
Is afforded on our w^ay. 

How much more we might be happy. 

If the good with single e\'e ; 
We but gather in our progress. 

What is not good pass it by. 



6o Mr$. BarrQn\§ Ppcm§, 

TO A FRIEND WHO IS GOING FAR AWAY. 



May faith fill the sail that shall watt you along. 
And hope be the anchor both Aveighty and strong ; 
Your breastplate be righteousness, shining and bright, 
Yoiu" girdle l^e truth, fitted firmly and tight. 

Your sword be the spirit and tempered like steel. 
God give vou the strength such a weapon to wield ; 
And though we may not meet again here below. 
God's blessing attend you wherever vou g(3. 

And when you arrive at your ha\ en at last. 
Your troubles are over, anxieties past. 
May all your dear loved ones who went on before. 
There meet you with Jesus to part nevermore. 



A RICH GEM. 



On one morn stood a Peri- quite disconsolate, 
And he sued for admission at Eden's bright gate ; 
But was told that an entrance there could not be ofained 
Not without the best treasure that could be obtained. 

It must traverse the earth and procure a rich gem. 
If approved w^ould secure it a sure passport then ; 
The proposal accepted thence onw^ard it went. 
On securing its object became quite intent. 

It explored all the seas and the earth to its poles. 
And at last found a lump of pure unalloyed gold ; 
With aerial fingers he grasped the bright prize, 
Struck its pinions to reach the celestial skies. 

Yet the gold was rejected, again it was told 
It must go where the earth does its treasures ur.fold. 
For a gem of more value than this he must give. 
Ere permission to enter those gates would receive. 



A Rich Gem. Si 

Then it roamed over mountains, amid silver streams, 
And through fields of bright verdure, where blossoms 

were seen ; 
To the dire fields of battle perchance it impart 
The last drop of fresh blood, from a voung warrior's heart. 

This it thought was a gem, indeed precious it was. 
For true liberty spilt and his dear country's cause ; 
This the Peri soon grasped and with some other gems 
To that happy abode struck his pinions again. 

But this too was rejected at Paradise gate. 
Till a gem still more precious again it must wait ; 
So it roamed many days, till near weary, but when 
About passing an autumn clad, drearv, dark glen. 

That a. sweet sleeping infant he there did descry 

In its innocent beauty and lovliness lie ; 

And absorbed in admiring its beautiful fice. 

Thou(jht it sure was a treasure that Eden mio-ht orrace. 

Was about to take hold of and bear it away, 
When he looked and approaching to where the babe lay. 
Was a haggard old robber emerged from the woods, 
Who advanced to the spot, and there motionless stood. 

As he looked on tlie face of that beautiful child, 
Now so harmless and loveable, placid and mild ; 
While admiring, he thought of his infantile days, 
Of his innocent childhood, once happy and gay. 

And his heart adamantine, he contrasted now, 
And his life so degraded, his virtues so low ; 
His own path filled with sin and w^th sorrow replete 
With the innocent sleeper that lay at his feet. 

Now moved with contrition, his heart heaved a sigh, 
The angel beheld a tear drop from his eye ; 
He eagerly caught it, nor longer did wait. 
And he soared away swiftly to Paradise gate. 

Soon he offered the boon, it was penitence's tear. 
Earth affords not a gem so acceptable there ; 
It secured it a passport where spirits divine, 
Do forever in union and harmony shine. 



62 Mrs, Ba7'r oil's Poems s 

DEATH OF 
PRESIDENT W. H. HARRISON. 



How great the chan^j^es, human fote, 
He is laid low who ruled in state ; 
How frail are all tilings here below, 
How vain is human pomp and show. 

One whom our country wide and long, 
His praises chanted in their songs ; 
And sons as well as aged sires, 
His many graces did admire. 

And men of science did proclaim 

Unequalled merits of his name ; 

A hero in the battle-field, 

To foes he scorned through fear to ^-ield. 

A patriot, an American, 
Philanthropist and people's man ; 
One who would vindicate their rights. 
His country's service his delight. 

Who of ail others v/as the best, 
Nor }'et disparaging the rest, 
The constitution of our land, 
To guide securely nor yet strand. 

Though breakers might be seen ahead, 
Which inexperienced men might dread, 
Yet wdth his giant intellect. 
Our happy country would protect. 

The sovereign people of our land 
Acknowledged him to be the man 
Of their own choice ; one who would be 
A suretv for their ri!:>erty. 

Thus to his skill did they coniide 
Our constitution's helm to guide ; 
To him the nation did look up. 
With all due confidence and hope. 



Death of Pyesldcni W. H. Harrison, 63 

Tims honored he by fortune gained 
The highest pinnacle of fame ; 
His head a Wreath of hiurels wear, 
V\\i\\ wh.ch no 3.1onarch's crown comoare. 

Yet God who g-overns all things right, 
•By whose Almighty power and might ; 
Nations do fail and nations rise, 
The Great Eternal, the Allwise. 

When earth's formation was begun, 
He spake the word and it was done ; 
lie now displayed his sovereign right. 
Our nation's fondest hopes to blight. 

For on the bed of death he laid. 
Our coun.try friend acknowledged head ; 
That he might to the nation show 
His power to bring the might v low. 

When wrecked with sore. distress and pain, 
No human means could him sustain ; 
His dying lips hiscountr}- blest, 
And quietly he sank to rest. 

Our statesmen clad in mourning are, 
And thousands weeds of sorrow wear ; 
For him wdio was our country's pride, 
Wliom they were willing to confide. 

'Tis now the counsel of the wise. 
In consequence of his demise. 
That all unite with one accord, 
And humbly bow before the Lord. 

To ask of Him whose eye can scan 
A nation, as a single man : 
lo grant that his successors be. 
As wise, discreet, and good as he. 

May christians to God's throne repair, 
Pour out their souls in humble prayer ; 
That those who fill that vacant place. 
May this republic ne'er disgrace. 



64 Mrs. Barron^ s- Poems. ■ 

May truth and righteousness prevail, 
Our peace no enemies assail ; 
May no oppressive tyranny 
E'er rob us of our liberty. 



THE STRAY LAMBS. 



Near to a mountain's rugged side, 

Down which the ripr)ling streams do glide ; 

Beside a glen upon a green, 

A shepherd with his flock was seen. 

He watched them with an anxious eve, 
When needed he was ahvavs nisfh : 
Fresh fields of green did he provide, 
And led them by still water's side. 

Two lam.bs while grazing in the night. 
Carelessly wandered from his sight ; 
When morning dawii the landscape cheered, 
He found those lambs had disa^^peared. 

He sought them over hill and dale, 
Until his countenance grew pale ; 
He persevered but all in vain, 
No information could he gain. 

When the sun 'rose bright orb of day, 
And chased the gloom of night away ; 
The wanderers found the vale they'd crossed, 
And hopes of peace and plenty lost. 

They travelled in the paths that wind 
Around the mount, but could not find 
The path, that led them to the field, 
Which sweet supplies of verdure yield. 

They wandered on, 'till close of day 
Convinced them they were far away ; 
Frantic with fear, hungry and dry. 
Nor was there food or fountain nigh. 



■ TJie Stray Lambs. 6^ 

Around the mount the gathering- clouds, 
The vivid lightnings thunder loud ; 
The howling wolves whicli they could hear, 
Served greatlv to increase their fear. 

Thus trembling in the frightful storm 
Thev lav, 'till the approach of morn ; 
One onward ran nor did refrain, 
Until the summit he had sfained. 

And hastening dow^n the side to go, 
Fell headlong in the gulf below ; 
The shepherd long his fate dejDlore, 
For he was never heard of more. 

The other made resolve again, 
If possible to hnd the plain ; 
Where was the flock, and' also where 
The shepherd v\'ith his constant care. 

Carefulh' n.ow he travelled down 

The paths, his wandering feet had found ; 

They led him to the vale below, 

Which some bright hopes of safety show. 

Despairing, hungry and distressed. 
About to lay him down to rest; 
He raised once more his anxious eyes. 
And in the distance did descrv 

The shepherd : folding- in his arms 
A tender lamb, secure from harm ; 
Too weak idone to reach the place, 
But he desired the shepherd's grace. 

Though feeble from fatigue and fear, 
Flis bleating reached the shepherd's ear ; 
Lo ! how tlie shepherd's heart rejoiced, 
To recognize the wanderer's voice. 

He ran directly to the vale, 
And with a sympathetic hail, 
Extended forth his <2fracious arms, 
And pressed him to his bosom warm<r 



^ ATrs. Ba7'rort's Poems. 

He put him in the fold secure, 
And <];-ave him food and water pure ; 
He from his presence night or day, 
Was never after known to stray. 

So the good Shepherd of our souls 
Protects his saints within his fold ; 
He knows them and they know his v^oice, 
While in His presence they rejoice. 

But if for want of faith and pride, 
One cease to follow by His side. 
Passes humiliation's vale, 
And in the \yorld of sin regale ; 

Pass heedless on from dav to day, 
Nor stop to ponder, watch and pray, 
Will find e'er long, the path he's trod 
Has led him far away from God. 

Darkness will gather 'round his mind, 
Peace for his soul he cannot find ; 
The threat'nings of God's wrath severe 
Will sound like thunders in his ear. 

Though he may win a worthy name, 
Ascend the pinnacle of fame ; 
Yet he will find at last a fall, 
In losing God, he loses all. 

But he who yv^ould return to God, 
And shun the justice of his rod ; 
With faith mtist lift his eyes above, 
There sits the Shepherd full of love. 

Repenting, he again must tread 
The paths his wandering feet have led ; 
Humiliation's vale's the place, 
Where God reveals His smiling face. 

The humble soul with broken heart. 
Will find the smiles His grace imparts ; 
His arm of mercy does reveal 
A balm fov every wound he feels* 



The Fou7itain . 67 



The bread of life will God bestow, 
Salvation's springs like waters flow ; 
Nor will he ever after stray, 
While he delights to watch and pray. 



THE FOUNTAIN. 



Beneath a cool and spreading shade, 
There is a fountain clear and pure ; 

A fountain nature's God has made, 
And one which ever will endure. 

And from its sides a rippling stream 
Flows gently through the vale below ; 

Its margin yields bright germs of green, 
Blossoms and fruit there also grow. 

It is a cool and safe retreat, 

Where thirsty travellers repair ; 

The waters arc so pure and sweet. 

Their raging thirst they quench it there. 

And many a man has blest the day. 
Though fortune good or ill he share ; 

When nearlv famished on the way, 

He turned and drank those waters there, 

'Tis never hot, is never cold, 

No tributaries enter there 
To cause it e'er to overflow, 

Nor yet its purities impair. 

So doth the mighty power of God 
O'ershade the fountain of His grace : 

And fresh supplies will it aflbrd 
For all who seek to And his face. 

It is a fount which never dries, 
A soul refreshing, safe retreat ; 

Who seek aright will find supplies, 
Which makes his happiness Complete. 



68 Mrs. Barroi2^s Poems. 

Within humiliation's vale, 

Spring up the germs of righteousness ; 
Producing fruits most pure and hale, 

When watered from the fount of erace. 

The christian who desires to grow 
In knowledge of the truth and grace ; 

Must learn of Him, who, meek and low, 
Benigfnlv shows His smilinsf face. 



THE OLD PHYSICIAN OF OUR 
CHILDHOOD. 



Alas our aged friend is gone, 

His mem'ry will be chcrislied long ; 

For him affection sheds a tear, 

And v/ould that he miglit still ]:>e here. 

He who has watched the sick bed-side, 
A safe specific to provide. 
With sleepless eyes and anxious care, 
No. effort to relive did spare. 

In storm. or sunshine, cold or heat. 
He aimed the wish of friends to meet ; 
The poor who had no means to pay 
Obtained. his aid by night or day. 

For eight successive nights he said. 
He watched the sicls: and dying beds ; 
And with u.nerring hand and skill. 
Ne'er failed his duty to fulfill. 

His fame V\'ill live though he has gone, 
Which public services have won ; 
Nor will his counsels be forgot, 
So wisely giVen and often sought. 

In consultation he Vv'as frank. 
Among his eonlneers first in rank ; 
The facility will long revere 
His memory, though he Ib not \^^xe, 



And many v/ill His memory bless. 
The wiclov/ and the fatherless 
Have often found, his ready hand 
Has satisfied their want's demand. 

V/hen iiiSL I sa^v that wo-thv m''n, 
Kis silvery locks and ''. • and 

BcsDoke his end was cir .s/..:- '--h, 
i saw and heard liiin heave a sigh. 

But he Vv ill heave a sigh no more. 
Nor his infirmities deplore ; 
Nor longer Vvdll his hands provide 
For those around liis ureside. 

No more iiis hoaiy head will bow, 
Crave God his blessings to bestow ; 
Nor shall we ever see him there, 
As once he sat in iiis arm cliair. 

The earth supports his weary head, 
Beside his consort he is laid ; 
And though he sleeps beneath the sod, 
We trust his sjoirit lives with God. 



A BEREAVED HUSBAND. 



Why coiddst thou here no longer stay, 
To cheer me through this vale of tears? 

Why has thy spirit ijed iiway. 

And left me nought my path to cheer? 

My grief from cares tiiou didst assuage, 
And made nly labors liglit for joy ; 

Thine every elibrt did engage, 

And every means didst thou employ 

To make my dwelling happiness ; 

When T was sick my bed did smooth. 
Thy face lit up with cheerfulness, 

My aching heart did always soothe. 



^o Mrs, jBarro7i's PoeiHS. 

My life is now a gloomy round. 
My troubles I must bear alone ; 

Thy voice I ne'er may hear tlie sound, 
I feel alas I that thou art gone. 

But God in wisdom caused it so, 

From murmuring feelings I'll refrain, 

When I have done with all below, 
May I behold thy face again. 



DEATH OF A YOUNG HUSBAND 
AND FATHER. 



Our friend beneath the spreading shade, 
In yonder cemcterv now sleeps ; 

To earth a long farewell he bade, 
His friends are left behind to weep. 

A son obedient and docile, 

A brother who was loved most dear ; 
Firm were his friends who'll cherish still 

His memorv, though he is not here. 

How suddenly are rent those ties. 

Which bound him to his friends, his home ; 
How unexpected his demise. 

Which calls so man}- hearts to mourn. 

Why heaven has called, we know not now. 

Nor why so soon he's borne away ; 
He who was loved, yet God will show 

What he designed some future day. 

He was of noble mind, and bland 

His spirit, as the vernal morn ; 
His presence graced the social band. 

His talents did the bar adorn. 

His friendship pledged was lasting sure, 
Not but a name a friend indeed ; 

As lasting friendship which is pure. 
His never failed in time of need. 



Death of a yoiciig Httsband and Pather, 71 

On Sabbath in the house of God, 

Where christhms join in humble prayer, 

And listen to the preached word, 

They always found him present there. 

And when his daily toils were done, 

He met his wife and children dear ; 
His smiles which their ailection won, . 

Dispelled their every rising fear. 

But now those eyes which beamed so bright, 
Those smiles which played upon his cheek, 

Those lips which once expressed delight 

Have ceased to cheer, have ceased to speak. 

That circle which the other day, 

Its 23eace had nothing to impair ; 
Gladness and joy have passed away, 

Husband -dnd father is not there. 

Perhaps the children cannot feel 

Hovv' gfreat is their bereavement now ; 

The mother anguish does reveal, 
There's grief depicted on her brow. 

Friend of her youth, her bosom friend. 

No earthly object was so dear ; 
May God in mercy condescend 

To calm her mind, assuage her tears. 

Though drinking from affliction's cup, 
Which God has sent her from above ; 

The surest test to try her hope. 

Inspire her soul with heavenly love. 

May He who sits to purify 

Mens hearts, with His almighty grace ; 
As silversmrth with anxious eye 

W^atches the silver till his foce 

It does reflect, in perfect form ; 

So may her Saviour's im:ige shine, 
And may His grace her heart adorn, 

He be her friend who is divine. 



73 Mrs, Barron's Poe7ns. 

Many will visit now the grave, 

Where rests the friend they loved when here. 
Many that sacred spot will lave. 

There grief will shed the heartfelt tear. 



A YOUNG FRIEND PASSED AWAY. 



A golden ray of morning light. 
Had pierced the Oriental night ; 
Like Jacob's ladder, long and high, 
It made a passage to the sky. 

An angel pure, who long had shone. 
Received a message from the throne ; 
And mounting in his golden car, 
Which shone in heaven, like as a star. 

Shines to our view ; yet far more bright, 
Descended on a ray of light, 
Down to this Earth — where mortals are- 
And waited for a passenger. 

Within a. cottage chamber, there 
Was a loved female, young and fair — 
That feeble tenement of clay — 
By Phoebus smitten — helpless lay. 

Death finished what disease begun. 
Ere the full light of morning sun 
Had o'er this Earth, his perfect light. 
Diffused, and dissipated night. 

So when the golden thread was loosed — 
Her spirit, which to Earth was used, 
Was the first ready passenger — 
And took a seat within the car. 

Drawn by celestial steeds of night, 
Ascended on a ray of light. 
Where heavenlv music greets the ear, 
As earthly mortals cannot hear. 



A Young Frtend Passed Azvay. 7-7 

The mortal portion — which was left, 
And of a soul, was now bereft, 
Was graced with flowers of purity, 
Beauty and immortality. 

Friendship had wreathed around her head, 
She still was beautiful, though dead ; — 
Within a precious casket lay. 
Is now at rest — to sleep for aye. 

Yet, shed no more the bitter tear 

Ye weeping friends, though she was dear ; 

Yield not, to comfortless regret, 

But think, though gone, she liveth v^et. 



THE POOR BEGGAR CHILD. 



Will you give me some cold victuals m'am if you please? 
I want something to eat which my hunger will ease ; 
Yester night I had nothing to eat eyen bread, 
And so I was obliged to go hungry to bed. 

There are some never know, from the feeling I'm told, 
W^hat it is to be hungry or sutler from cold ; 
And who never from poverty, winter must dread. 
Or for vyant of a supper go hungry to bed. 

So I too might not want did my father still live, 
For before he grew sick, he had plenty to give ; 
And my mother would smile and when I was well fed, 
She would kiss a good night \yhen she put me to bed. 

Now my father is dead and my mother is poor, 
And she vyeeps all the time that she sees him no more ; 
Often shiyering vyith cold when'our prayers have been said, 
For the vyant of a lamp go in darkness to bed. 

Now my mother 2!;ro\vs sick and I fear she will die. 
But she tells me that there is a home in the sky, 
Wb.ere we'll neyer know sorrow and tears never shed, 
Or for want of a supper, go hungry to bed. 



74 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

OUR LITTLE FRIEND HARRY, 



A year ago, I had a little friend, 

His name was Harry an only child ; 

He used sometimes to come and with me play, 
I loved him dearly cause he was so mild. 

He never would be angr\; when at play. 

And never teased me as some others woidd ; 

We rode my rocking-horse and marbles rolled. 
He was not selhsh but was always good. 

Sometimes we dressed ourselves in old clothes, 
And in our gambols had a lot of fun ; , . 

But when his leave to stay, was past, went home, . 
As cheerful as before our plays begun. 

One dav I heard mv little friend was sick, 
So very sick they feared that he must die ; 

I knew he could not come again to play, 
I felt so badly that I had to cry. 

He died ; they made a casket for his bed. 

And placed within his hand a blooming rose ; 

His mother wrapped him in his little cloak. 
And then that jewel in that casket closed. 

I wished he had lived till summer time, 

When many roses bloom and flowers are bright ; 

I'd like to place some in his little bed. 

And kiss him as I said his last good night. 

I do not think that all he was is dead, 
Although his spirit gently passed away,* 

His Heavenly Father loved him so he said. 
And he loved God he also used to say. 

The blessed Saviour said when here on earth, 
Hinder them not, let children come to me ; 

Such little children sing God's praise on earth, 
In heaven their angels may God's glory see. 



Sudden Death of Tivo Ckild7'en. 75 

THE ROSES SUGGESTED BY THE SUD- 
DEN DEATH OF TWO CHILDREN. 



1 saw two roses bright and fair, 

United to the parent stem, 
Their fragrance wafted on the air, 

And crystal dew drops rest on them. 

It seemed as though no chilhng bhist 

Could whither them, they looked so bright; 

Beauty and fragrance long might last, 
They long might look as lo\ely quite. 

But ere the vernal sun had set, 

Beneath the western horizon. 
I saw and lo ! with deep regret 

Some hand had plucked them, they were gone. 

Where are they gone I asked one near, 

Those roses recently so gay ; 
He said mourn not, dry up your tear. 

Though they have bloomed but for a day. 

The hand that caused them here to bloom. 

Dress'd in fair nature's gay attire ; 
The Author of their life and doom. 

Here placed them for us to admire. 

He has assumed his perfect right. 

To take them when his will should choose : 
He who made them, when here, so bright, 

Has taken them for his own use. 

The parent stem did bow her head, 

Who of her roses was bereft ; 
Submissively and calmly said 

I have indeed one comfort left. 

It is that when the vernal suns 

Shall clothe anew fair nature's face 
With verdure, I shall clad in turn 

And roses too my head shall grace. 



76 Mrs. JBaj'i'on^s Poejns. 

THANKSGIVING DAY. 



This is a day when many hearts 

Beat joyfulh^ and gay ; 
When many friends v/ill meet to part. 

It is thanksarivins" day. 

Yet when the sun did greet m.v eyes, 

With his resplendant rays. 
My heart was sad, and with a sigh, 

Did greet thanksgiying day. 

I thought of those I loved so dear. 

Who now arc far aw^ay ; 
My heart did with their presence cheer, 

On last thanksgiying day. 

My brothers with their wiyes were here. 
The boys did sport and play ; 

All did unite the scene to cheer, 
On last thankssriyins: day. 

My mother in the corner sat, 
Wher? she was wont to stay ; 

The vacant seat we now regret, 
On this thanksgiying day. 

Then with a smile she welcomed home, 

Her children from away ; 
She smiles no more, we are alone 

On this thanksgiying day. 

Tier aged consort she Is a tear, 

And plaintiyely does say, 
There is no such enjoyment here. 

As last thanksgiying day. 

But faith looks up to joys aboye. 
May heayen permit we may, 

Meet there and spend with those we love, 
A lono^ thankss'iyin^ day. 



The Little Shaving Girl. 77 

THE LITTLE SHAVING GIRL. 



A little shaving-pedler girl, . 

Called at my door one morning ; 
She looked too pure for this cold world, 

The i^lebeian class adorning. 

She said she had no breakfast eat, 
And she was faint and chilly ; 

Beside her on the steps there sat, 
Her sis and brother Willie. 

They had no shoes upon their feet, 

Or cap or boiniet either ; 
And all tlieir clothes were incomplete, 

For such inclement weather. 

Please buy my shavings, please ma'am do, 

I've plead in vain of others ; 
Then I will buv a loaf, then (jo 

And take it home to mother. 

She has no food until I go, 

She's pale for want of sleeping ; 

My father died long time ago, 
I left her sad and weeping. 

When I was small, as little sis, 

And Willie was a baby ; 
I had a father then to kiss, 

And mother was a lady. 

My father was a long time sick. 
One dav said he must leave us ; 

He grew so pale and died so quick. 
Oh ! how the sight did grieve us. 

Then mother had to leave our home, 

W^ith me and Sis and Willie ; 
Where now we live it seems so lone. 

In winter, drear and chilly. 



yS Ji/rs. BarroJis Poems. 

And those whom mother deemed her friends, 
When she had home and fashion, 

Have all deserted her which lends, 
A pang to her low station. 

So please to me some pity show, 
And take my load of shavings ; 

That I to mother soon may go. 
With bread to ease her cravings. 

Those who have homes and plentv now. 
And cheerful friends to light them ; 

Feel not that all their hopes may go, 
Those friends may help to blight them. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



God who has made the sun so bright, 
Each star and moon that shines by night, 
On us he sends refreshing rains ; 
Removes the clouds, sun shines again. 
Gives life, and health to you and me, 
Each bird that flies and beast we see, 
Spreads on the earth the verdant green, 
Each flower that blooms, his eye has seen. 
And all that grows for us to eat, 
Yes ! bread and all the fruit and meat ; 
Reigns in the heavens beyond the sky, 
So good fromx all eternity. 



A TRIP TO THE MOUNTAINS AND 
SEA SHORE. 



I'll tell you of a pleasant trip. 
Our friend and I and others 

Have lately taken in the cars, 
As happily as brothers. 



A Trif) to the Mountains ajid Sea Shore. 79 

No incident of worthy note. 

Perhaps that I need mention ; 
To write what no one cares to know, 

It is not my intention. 

The morn was fair as one could wish. 

The air was clear and balmv. 
And cheerfully we took our seats 

Contentedly and calmly. 

A picnic party joined the train, 

Conductor soon appearing, 
A talk about their tickets soon 

Commenced, not yery cheering^. 

Discussion lasted for a while. 

Then gathering up their tickets. 
He left the cars, still looking sour. 

As eyer tired picket. 

The iron horse still sped along. 

Scarce stopping for a minute. 
When tightly curbed it snorted loud, 

As though the deuce \yas in it. 

But neyer mind we sped along, 

By yillage and by city, 
And had we not enjoyed (nnselyes. 

It would have been a pity. 

The valley of the Merrimack, 

Our chosen road to travel. 
Had no obstructions for the wheels 

Made up of sand and gravel. 

We passed by woodland, farms and lakes, 

And pleasant scenes and fountains, 
Pemigewasset house at last 

We found amonsr the mountains. 



'to 



The driver stopped the iron horse. 
And all went up to dinner, 

And there we found the fare was good 
Enough for saint or sinner- 



8o Mrs. Barroii's Pccms. 

Refreshed we started on our way, 

Not changing our relation, 
Until we reached the place to leave. - 

Which proved to be "West Rumney station. 

Whom would you think our friend should take, 

And kindly make his protege, 
She was a lady quite advanced 

Towards the years of dotage. 

He always proved to be. a gentleman. 

At no time anv other. 
And every act of kindness showed. 

As he had been a brother. 

On board the cars lie found a man 

Wiio owned a span of horses, 
He promised to convey us through, 

Without delay or losses. 

We waited at the station long, 

For Jehu to be coming. 
But he came not and mioht as well 

Been in the woods out ounninof. 

The first we knew of his treachery, 

A little man who knew it 
A little buggy backing up, 

A horse frame harnessed to it. 

The horse had served his master well 

For thirty years and over, 
When in his prijne might have been fast. 

If fed on oats and clover. 

Our friend protested but in vain, 

He had to grin and bide it. 
We took our seats with baggage packed, 

The small man walked beside it. 

The driver had the reins, no wdiip, 

I cannot quite well tell it, 
He shouted ''get up I go long !" and more, 

Alas ! I cannot spell it. 



A Trip to the Alountains and Sea Shore. 8i 

But horses kno^v the language used ' 

I've seen and often heard on't, 
But soon%vas proved the talking vain, 

The horse could not hear on't. 

You should have seen his honor's face. 

To know the situation, 
We think, if he had ever swore, 

He would on th^it occasion. 

He asked for a switch, one was procured. 

But that one was so brittle. 
However skilled the driver w^as. 

It aided but a little. 

By dint of jerking reins and switch, 

And all the skill and power, 
We think perhaps he might have made, 

A mile in half an hour. 

The case appeared so desperate 

When coming to a stable. 
The page exchanged the horse for one 

More speedy and more able. 

He found a little stool and then 

He took the seat as driver, 
His conversation proved to be 

Desponding soul's reviver. 

He told how he cleared his land 

Up there among the mountains ; 
And also showed us where he built 

A mill up by the fountain. 

His wife worth more by far to him 

Than mill or farm or fountains, » 

All kinds of work knew how to do, 
Cause — reared among the mountains. 

She knew how to milk the cows and make 

Good bread and cheese and butter. 
She could spin and weave and knit and sew 

And would not scold or mutter. 



82 Mrs. JBarron's Poe?ns. 

She helped to rake and mow the hav, 
Raise squashes or tomatoes, 

And later in the season husk, 
Pick apples or potatoes. 

When clearing land, she helped him, too. 

The limbs in piles to gather. 
No fear to soil her hands, or fear 

The hot or colder weather. 

She reared herself a monument, 

The act seemed very funm', 
She laid a large stone on a stum23 

Upon the hill-side sunny. 

He pointed out some hedgehog fences. 
He said she helped him make it, 

If I may judge he would not like 
To have the cattle break it. 

He has a daughter, but a child, 

Six years of age not older. 
Who rides on horseback to town, 

As well as those much bolder. 

He sometimes worked for "Uncle Sam,*' 

And carried bag's of letters. 
And sen'ed him just as faithfully 

As many of his letters. 

We passed by glens and waterfalls. 

And precipices, frightful ! 
At last surmounted Youngman's Heights. 

There found the scene deliohtful. 



•t^' 



Our friends were so happ}' we had come, 
Al] sadness and all tearfulness, 

If ever clouds had passed that way, 
All sunny now and cheerfulness. 

Their tables loaded too with food 

Farmers alone can furnish. 
Exceeds the hotel fare as much 

As gold, rough cast, when burnished. 



A Trip to the Moiintahis and Sea Shore. 83 

What cream I so sweet with berries fresh, 

We ate it with more relish, 
Better than costly viands which, 

More stately boards embellish. 

Our visit Hnished we returned. 

Where mountain scenery ceases, 
And started for the sea side, where 

We felt the ocean breezes. 

Our friend and wife from Youngman's Heights, 

They joined In our excursion, 
Our object and our aim the same, 

Health seeking and diversion. 

We had a palace car prepared, 

Our party all were seated, 
And every comfort we could wish. 

Sit or recline, completed. 

At Boston had to wait awhile, 

And went to do some shopping, 
With dining at the Parker House, 

Took all of our time of stopping. 

We went to Portsmouth where we found 

The best accommodations. 
The cooks and .waiters both excel 

Most others in their stations. 

I'd tell of something of the house, 

The Rockingham of fame is ; 
The landlord much a gentleman, 

Frank Hilton that his name is. 

New Castle is an island town 

Two miles from Portsmouth city, 
Commanding Portsmouth Harbor views, 

Both picturesque and pretty. 

The Wentvvorth House deserving note. 

The landlords. Chase and Campbell, 
We found a pleasant sea side home. 

Sea views, it does command well. 



§4 Airs. Ba7'rons Poems. 

An artist had been stopping there, 
Sketcliing the v^iews surrounding : 

Many were finished up with care, 
With beautiful tents al')oiuidin<j-. 

We went to Rye's extensive l^each, 
' Where billows roll much bolder; 
They lash the shore with foam and roar 
Exciting to beholder. 

We put up at the Sanborn House, 
Qj-iite homelike for a stranger ; 

We felt a freedom from restraint, 
And also free from danger. 

Our lady friend grew very sick, 
We feared she'd have a fever, 

And telegraphed for Dr. Hall 

Of Portsmouth, who relieved her. 

Levi T. Sanborn was our host, 
His wife as kind as may be, 

Old folks and children made the group. 
The "rosebud" was the baby. 

The sisters of the hostess fiir, 

And competent and able, 
To furnish comforts for the guests. 

Politely serve the table. 

« 

The guests were gentlemen of taste. 

Experience and travel ; 
One was expert in sleight of hand 

Not easy to unravel. 

Showed Chinese curiosities, 
One god of the deep ocean. 

One his satanic majesty, 

Who claimed man's true devotion. 

Some other curiosities 

Were brous^ht by Hesse from China, 
But none to represent that God 

Who thundered on Mount Sinai. 



A Trip to the Mountains and Sea Shore. 85 

Cross made of wood from Olivet. 

A Jewish mite and shekel, 
A. piece of cloth which Phillip's throne. 

French Emperor bedecked well. 

Some wood from California's tree, 

Four hundred feet it numbered 
In height, and its circumference 

It measured feet one hundred. 

The heart decayed, cleaned out with fire. 

To make the opening wider, 
A horse went in and turned around. 

And on his back a rider. 

Thirty young lads and lasses fair, 

Met on the stump together. 
And danced and had a jolly time. 

Fine California weather. 

The weather growing chill and damp. 

The summer season ended. 
The guests prepared to separate. 

And various ways they wended. 

Tw'o wished to sail around the earth. 

But one who so intended, 
Suddenly passed to spirit land, 

Before the week was ended. 

Some started for the Sunny South, 

Where summer lasts forever. 
While others went to Northern homes. 

And more inclement w^eather. 

And all in all, our time has passed. 

With changes ever pleasant ; 
So I will bid this theme good-bve. 

At least so for the present. 



86 Mrs. Barro7i^s Poems. 

RECOLLECTIONS OF LONG AGO, 

AN ALLEGORY. 



An old man lately travelled along the lone way, 

And his head was quite bald, and his beard turning gray ; 

Yet his eyes looking bright, and his memory so, 

That he talked of the scenes, which were long, long ago. 

Of the Colonies when they were weak and so poor. 
People lived in log houses, wood hinges for doors ; 
Leather strings to the latches, which whittled from wood. 
And they answered all purposes, even w^ere good. 

When outside of the house, there was no bell to ring, 
And they rapped on the door, heard a voice say zvalk in ; 
Then they knew they were welcome, to open the door, 
Which they did, when they drew the latch string, nothing 
more. 

There was room in the house for the loom, that was so. 
And a wheel to spin wool on, and cotton, and tow ; 
And a wheel to spin worsted, and flax, there was room, 
And behind the board door hung the green hemlock broom. 

The stone chimney was large, and the, fire burned bright. 
With a light from a pitch-pine knot blazing at night. 
Could all over the room see to knit or to sew, 
And no kerosene bursting the lamps up you know. 

But the white tallow candles that set on the shelves, 
Made from home-slaughtered beeves, mothers dipped 

them themselves, 
They were careful to waste none, they burned them with 

care. 
For if sickness should come, there would be none to spare. 

Often torches were made of fat splinters of pine, ' 
Though they smoked the house some, were thought best 

for the time. 
One could see to draw cider, or see to split w^ood. 
Were for great manv purposes, even called good. 



Recollections of Long" Ago. Sy 

Once an accident happened ; a man kept a store. 
Had a barrel of brandy, he wished to explore ; 
So he drew out the bung, held a torch near the same. 
And the brandy took tire left him nought hut his name. 

For the owner was killed, and the house was burned 

down, 
Nothing left for the family, saving the ground ; 
Was a sad loss to mother and children that night, 
They escaped from the tlames, with few clothes in their 

frisfhtf 



■fc>' 



In those days when the liunter could roam through the 

yv^oods. 
And perchance meet a bear which they shot for their food. 
Then the farmers kept hogs, to make pork that vyas good. 
With a riuCT in their snouts, they could roam if they would. 



'^ 



On one morning at just at the break of the day. 
Quite too early to mow down the grass to make hay. 
And too early for eyen the singing of birds. 
Was a sound of distress by a family heard. 

So the man made a rush, and he opened the door. 
Peering into the darkness, the cause to explore ; 
When he saw an old bear, in the wood left his den, 
And had stolen his breakfast, out of his hog pen. 

Though the bear felt secure, yet the sequel will show. 
That the punishment due to that crime, did not know. 
When the owner of pig made a rush for his gun, 
Found a scant ammunition, and bullets but one. 

But he chopped up some spoons, making shot out of them, 
And he shot at the bear only laming him then. 
But he went to his neighbors yyho heeded his call, 
And they took with them guns, also powder and balls. 

And they shot at, and luckily killing the bear. 
And when dressed and divided each one had a share. 
Such rejoicing they felt, having slain the wild beast, 
They called in other friends, to partake of their feast. 



SS Mrs. Barroit's Poems. 

A TOAD AND SPIDER FIGHT. 



One summer day when Sol was hid from view, 
The air was damp, the leaves were clad with dew ; 
Which people thought an inauspicious dav. 
For mowing grass or (hying it for hay. 

Yet such an one as tillers always know, 
Is quite as good for them to wield the hoe ; 
A man of industry quits not his toil. 
Because it is not needed on the soil. 

A former had a little plot detached. 
And cultivated for a cal^bage patch ; 
Among the cabbages were growing weeds. 
If unsubdued would ripe with noxious seeds. 

He had two lads whose time he would employ, 
One, he had hired for help, one was //is boy ; 
He bade them take their hoes, they might go down 
And cut the weeds and lighten up the groiuul. 

They worked and talked as boys are wont to do. 
Till they were tired, then sought for something new 
The first thing to amuse them caught their sight. 
Was a pitched battle, toad and spider fight. 

The toad would spring at spider, aim a blow. 
And all the hatred of his species show ; 
The spider in return at toad would start. 
Inflict a dan^-erous wound with venom dart. 



& 



The toad when wounded would at once refrain. 
And seek an antidote to quell the pain ; 
Then straightway to the combat would return. 
When both inspired by vengeance seemed to burn. 

Boys watched the toad to see what he had found. 
To cure so quick what seemed a fatal woimd ; 
They saw him straightway to a spot repair 
And eat some plantain, which was growing there. 



A Toad and Spidci" Fight. 89 

As oft a wound the spider did renew, 
The toad repaired to where the plantain grew ; 
iVnd when sufficient of the leaf had chewed. 
Returned and both the deadly strife renewed. 

Not quite divining what the reason was, 
Or why the toad should know effect from cause ; 
While toad and spider were at deadly fight. 
They plucked the plantain, threw it out of sight. 

The toad received a wound producing pain, 
Directly sought the antidote again ; 
But fatal proved the battle he had fought, 
In vain he sought the plantain, it was not. 

As nature did no other cure provide. 

The poison swelled hini, soon laid down and died. 

The spider then to whom the toad did yield, 

In triumph marched victorious from the field. 



HARMONY OF THE ELEMENTS AND 
THE SEASONS. 



iVpollo and Neptune together once met. 

To talk of their duties the light, heat and wet ; 

Decided Eolus if he were but there. 

Their deliberations together might share. 

When came the next meeting Eolus went too. 
Was willing to learn and his duty .to do ; 
All being desirous to do the most good. 
Each doing his duty as all understood. 

Thev talked of the Earth where God's creatures do live. 

^ 

The aid and the comfort they all helped to give ; 
Would always do best for them now and again. 
While man should be satisfied and not complain. 

When winter came roimd and claimed absolute sway. 
They yielded a while let him have his own way ; 
He covered the Earth with his frost and his snow. 
And lingered till all nature wished him to go. 



90 Mrs. ^arroft's Poems. 

He never attempted to go no not he. 
Was stubborn and crusty as all hard hearts be ; 
Attempted no move until Sol came that way, 
He softened his heart and he started away. 

The aid which Eolus had given so long, 
With life at the north pole was now not so strong, 
The love he had cherished for winter of late. 
Essentially changed now was turned into hate. 

He left his old home and ofi' to the South, 
The blasts that he blew were all warm from his mouth ; 
So mildly both worked drove cold winter away, 
Eolus and Sol now both had their own way. 

Cold winter whose rule had caused so many fears, 
So grieved at his fate that he melted to tears ; 
So full were the fountains from tears that he shed. 
That rills, brooks and rivers filled more than their beds. 

But Sol smiled so sweetly now winter had fled 
They soon were effaced like the tears for the dead ; 
Sol smiled, oh ! so sweetly, so brilliant his light. 
One while in his presence could never see night. 

Eolus returned to his home when he could. 
Assumed his right place where his mill always stood ; 
Caution and Prudence they ground with such care. 
One scarcely would know that a mill had been there. 

Sol's smiles kept so pleasant his light was so warm, 
That Neptune was called for to furnish a storm ; 
The place of his home and his place where to sleep. 
Was always secure in the bed of the deep. 

The call for his presence soon earnest and loud, 
He 'rose from his sleep in the form of a cloud ; 
He was not quite sure but he'd fail in disgrace, 
Unless he could manage to cover Sol's face. 

He needed some help for to spread out a veil. 
Alone if he tried it he knew he should fail ; 
So called on Eolus to come to his aid. 
And help him to carry the plan he had laid. 



Harmony of the Eletnents and the Seasons. 91 

He left his own home and went round to the East, 
The veil helped make broader its thickness increase ; 
So thick and so broad that it covered the skies, 
Completely obscuring Sol's face and his eyes. 

The veil growing thicker which Neptune had made. 
It kept growing darker and gloomy the shade ; 
So heavy it grew that it could not retain 
Its original form so it dropped down in rain. 

The ground had been sleeping and taking its rest. 
Though covered with snow yet it still had been blest ; 
And lately so wet it was now dry again. 
And thirsty and ready to drink all the rain. 

In gardens and fields soon appeared germs of green, 
Qiiite soon tiny buds and bright blossoms were seen ; 
The farmers soon planted, sowed broadcast their grain. 
And summer came smiling and blooming again. 

As summer and Sol had been always near friends. 
They toiled side by side both would reach the same end ; 
As all vegetation grew rapid and green, 
In fields and in meadow^s prolific were seen. 

And by and by Ceres with sickle in hand. 
She gathered and garnered all grain in the land ; 
As man had now plenty of food to be fed, 
And animals too had no hunger to dread. 

If winter should come with his white spread of snow, 
They bade him quite w^elcome till ready to go ; 
The lads and the lasses were joyful to go, 
And have some fine sleighriding over the snow. 

And merrily mingled their joy and their song. 
With music of sleigh bells while gliding along ; 
So winter he triumphed again for awhile, 
'Til Sol showed his power to conquer with smiles, 

Demanded that he abdicate as a king. 
And give up his throne to his daugther the spring ; 
So spring to the summer in turn gave her way, 
And Summer to Autumn each had its owai day. 



CfZ Mrs. Barron's Poems, 

COMMENDABLE ECONOMY. 



The young man did not take a hack, 

In consequence his shoes 
Were somewhat tarnished l^y the mud. 

And did not look as new. 

Commendable economy, 

He thought it was no sin, 
The lady said — who is your friend? 

You ought to ask him in. 

Who may it be you speak of sir. 
With w^hom you choose to walk ? 

Commendable economy, 

Of whom I heard you talk ? 

I think he must be worthy sure. 

If such a man as you 
Can like him for your company, 

And find him good and true. 

Where does he live, please tell me where .'^ 

Some mansion it must be ; 
Or you w^ould not associate 

With such a man as he. 

And does he keep a span of grays, 

Barouche and driver too } 
And yet he leaves them all at home. 

To take a w^alk with you. 

He must be good, I'm sure he must, 

I'd like to see him so, 
I w^ish you would invite him in, 

I'd like him much I know. 

And has he not some sisters, voun«- 

And fair, and lovely too.^ 
I'd like to have their company 

For me, with him and you. 



Commendable Rconomy. 93 

Yes, he has sisters fair and good, 

Their names perhaps you'd know ; 
So I will tell you of them all. 

Because I like them so. 

Forethought their father's name is called. 

And Prudence is his wife ; 
Their daughters. Caution and Discreet, 

All lead a virtuous life. 

They also have a daughter Hope, 

A son called Charity ; 
Another little daughter Faith, 

As bright as one can be. 

Each tries to do their part in life. 

And Plenty he lives there ; 
And after they have all they want. 

He still has some to spare. 

So when you say I'll ask them down. 

To make a visit here ; 
The more you see you'll like the more. 

Your daily life they'll cheer. 

Your labors will not be increased. 

With all that fiimily ; 
For Plenty he will also come, 

You'll like him well as me. 

Some old long cherished friends, you may 

Be forced to set aside ; 
And would it not your feelings crush. 

To crush your old friend Pride. 

Perhaps it might, but then I know 

Your judgment good and wise, 
As it is called for, I will try 

To make the sacrifice. 

And there is Fashion he has been 

A tyrant cherished long ; 
And will you also part with him. 

And do yourself no wrong. 



94 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

Fashion has ruled me long- I know. 

I also will decide. 
He may go too, for he can Hnd 

A welcome home with Pride. 

All necessary comforts they 
Will make with as a home ; 

For such amusements as we need. 
Will not be forced to roam. 

Contentment too, I've long desired. 

To welcome as a guest ; 
For well I know wdiere she resides. 

That family is blest. 

That I will set my house to rights. 
Shall be my aim and end ; 

So you may give my blest regard 
And welcome to your friends. 

They came ! and strange to say they all 
Had room enough and more ; 

All was harmonious and peace. 
Yet joyful as before. 

Forethouo;ht looked forward to old agfe. 
When all need home and friends ; 

If in the past he made mistakes. 
The future tried to mend. 

Prudence what surplus plenty gave. 

Were anything to spare. 
Except what charity might need 

She laid it up with care. 

Their daughters, Caution and Discreet, 

Were always by her side. 
For every necessary want, 

They helped her to provide. 

Spendthrift were two in company. 
They caused them to divide ; 

They sent off Spend, retaining Thrift. 
Cause he cared less for Pride. 



Commc7idab1 e Economy. (^^ 

Waste had been tolerated there. 

But was not wanted now ; 
And he went off to live with Pifde, 

To Fashion make his bow. 

That family did not grow old, 

Though time went swiftly by ; 
They always kept him company, 

This was the reason why. 

When Time went 'round the earth with Sol. 

And night gave place to day ; 
Forethought's whole family were up. 

To join him on the \vav. 

They never had to run behind. 

Because they started late ; 
Or fiiiled obedience to God's laws. 

And charofed the ill to fate. 



i-> 



Walking in w^isdom's pleasant wuys. 

The lady and her friends 
Found all the path, a path of peace, 

From starting to the end. 



A BEREAVED HUSBAND AND FATHER. 



Pity that man of three score years and ten, 
Whose youth and early manhood once had been 
Buoyant with hope, and prospects quite as ftxir, 
As most young men, wnth loves to sw^eeten care. 

Lovely and fair and best of vs^ives was his. 
With sons and daughters adding to their bliss ; 
But soon a boy and girl grew sick and died, 
In two days only laid them side by side. 

Thus in their golden days, were dark alloys 
But more w^ere given to increase their joys ; 
They still did thrive, by industry and care 
Their flocks increased, their cottage neat and fair 



9^ Mrs. Ban-Git's Poems. 

Seemed a befitting place, to make them sao-e. 
And a most happ^^ home for good old age ; 
But ah ! how like a mildew or a blight, 
That Cometh when uncalled for in the night ; 

Death to that dwelling unexpected came, 
And for that wife and mother, laid his claim ; 
And from his fatal grasp no power or skill 
Could shield her, and she yielded to God's will. 

That husband in the churchyard laid his bride, 
Two tender infiints, laid there by her side 
His heart seemed broken, sorrow, grief and care 
Weighed down his spirits nearly to dispair. 

But reason came, and hope to his relief. 
And taught him that he must not yield to grief; 
They taught him that he was not quite bereft. 
He had four lovely sons a?id daughters left. 

For their support and comfort still must strive, 
Comfort from their affection must derive ; 
His work seemed light when he was sure to meet 
His loved ones, boundino^ with their welcome grreet. 

Death was not satisfied with former claims. 
But ere three years had passed came round again ; 
And made his mark ; not only one or two, 
But all that fother loved, none less would do. 

The throat distemper, terrible disease. 
And scarlet fever gave them no more ease ; 
Skilful physicians, careful nurses too, 
Called to their aid, to save them tried to do. 

He watched them day and night with anxious care, 
Nor any means to give relief did spare ; 
While ministering to one, another called. 
While that, perhaps he hears papa from all. 

And every effort adds but to his grief. 
Each case is desperate, there is no relief; 
His darling daughter called him to her bed. 
To him in feeble accents, papa — said. 



A Be7'eavcd Husband and FatJicr. 97 

I now am very sick, and I must die, 

And soon must say to ^-ou a last good bve ; 

Where shall I go, to papa? is it fiir, 

To Heaven, where mother lives beyond the star. 

Shall I go to her, never more to roam. 
Has God provided for her child a home? 
Your mother, darling, is a saint in heaven, 
A home for all her children will be given. 

Her little brother hrst was called awa\', 
That best of daughters followed the next dav ; 
In twelve davs more, his last and only son 
Did cease to live, his suffering was done. 

He still had left one daughter, pure and fair. 
Who with the rose and lilly might compare ; 
His cup of sorrow full, he still did dread. 
What came in eig"ht days more, she too zcas dead. 



'ir> 



He felt that all was gone, no comfort left. 
Of all he loved on Earth he was bereft ; 
Where should he seek for comfort wdiere indeed, 
Who now could know his sorrows feel his need? 

He roamed through woodland, over hill and glen. 
And sought a place to weep away from men ; 
His manly limbs shook like an aspen leaf. 
His mind so tortured, and so weak from grief. 

When he approached again his cottage home, 
No voice of welcome said, papa has come ! 
No little arms to give him an embrace, 
No lips to print a kiss upon his face. 

How could he live within that cottage more. 
And call it home, as he had done before, 
Alas ! he could not feel content to stav. 
Sold all to strangers, left and w^ent awav. 

For many years he shared a stranger's home, 
But growing old, and wishing not to roam, 
He bought a home ; and married a new wife. 
In quiet spending wh^it remains of life. 



9^ Mi'S. Bai'j'on^s Poeins. 

TliOLio^h every comfort competence can do, 

A wife he loves, and one who loves him too ; 

Yet, when a retrospective view he takes, 

He grieves and weeps, as though his heart would l:)reak, 

Though at temptation's door he sometimes halt, 
It is his weakness, though it seemed a fault ; . 
Have patience then and bear with him awhile. 
And think to care for him, he has no child. 

He has no child to raise him should he ftill. 
And none to answer to a father's call, 
That God who gave them, when his heart was gav. 
Had right and took them ere his locks were grav. 

Then show liim kindness, you who have the power. 
Kind actions die not in the passing hour ; 
And should he not reward you in his day, 
Some others may, when he has passed awav. 



LADS PLAYING IN THE SNOW. 



The sun shone bright, the sky of azure hue. 
The air was chill, the snow was pure and new ; 
In every sense a nice December day. 
Such as young lads do like to spend in play. 

Some youngsters met where months before had been, 
[n summer time a pleasant field of green ; 
rhey met as friends for exercise and plav, 
5uch as are found in a cold winter's day . 

\11 who have lived bsyond their youth do know. 
Tow much of fun is furnished by the snow ; 
i^or lads are never waatiiig in their prims, 
^or gam2s and feats to pass away their time. 

Ph^v rolled up s.iovv and built themselves a fort, 
vl I b imiges of various kinds for sport; 
^hiigjl ill th3 snow, wasasi each the other's face, 
^elte 1 with balls then each the other chase. 



Lads Playiitg in the S^iow. 99 

Each tried to drive the other from the field, 

All were courageous and refused to yield ; 

And when with feats like these they all got tired, 

With thoughts of something else they were inspired. 

They held a council as boys often do, 
When they would learn to act on something new ; 
An open held snow clad, all shorn of wood, 
Except one lone tree in the centre stood. 

So they agreed to make that tree their goal. 
And each should take his course from that to stroll ; 
One face the north, one south, one east, one west. 
Each walk in a straight line to do his best. 

Each thought it easy, nothing else but fun. 

That he could make a path straight as a gun ; 

First, Peter started oft' not doubting he.. 

But what the path he made quite straight would be. 

He fi:?fed his eyes alone upon the ground. 
Walked on awhile then turned himself around ; 
To see what progress and what his success. 
Found his path crooked and his courage less. 

Then Thomas started oft' to make his track, 
But often turning 'round and looking back ; 
He also found his path was crooked too, 
And called on James to try what he could do. 

James thought to have an object was good sense. 

So fixed his eyes alone upon a fence ; *^ 

Marched on with confidence, but soon he found 

The object useless, 'twas too near the ground. 

And turning 'round that he his course might see. 
He saw a crooked path from fence to .tree ; 
Each did his best and each failed in his turn. 
Who followed might a lesson from them learn. 

Walking ahead still looking on the ground. 
Carefully w^alking often turning around ; 
Having an object fixed upon the mind. 
Without that object should be w^ell defined. 



lOO Mj's. Barroit's Poems. 

Now it was time for John to show his skill. 
And that he might excel he had a will ; 
An object to absorb his mind and eye. 
Were better far away and very high. 

A mountain in the distance he espied, 
A point upon the top he took for guide ; 
It was his mark, toward that made his way. 
No object else his vision led astrav. 

With one idea deep the plan he laid, 
Success soon crowned the etibrt he had made ; 
And when he took a retrospective view% 
He saw his path as straight as it was new. 

His good success might teach the others too. 
To do like him and be successful too ; 
So every youth should set his standard high, 
Its final point no lower than the skv. 

Aim at perfection, aim at nothing less, 
The nearer its approach more God will bless ; 
Never once say because you can't go higher. 
That you'll be satisfied with low desire. 

Never give up, its all the world to you. 
To walk the right way honestly and true ; 
Never give up, the example which you lead. 
Will to your fellow's be a precious mead. 



TRUTH. 

WRITTEN FOR THE SUNDAY SC;^j(^fc CONCBRrT^ 



y^Wi you go., work to-day in the- yi^i^yard Q>f God.'' 
It is r^)?/ vsdio are called, then attend to His word. 
Will you go, then commence- iru the morn of this day. 
While the sunshine of yoi,i;th maketh foyful the way. 

Will you work in GocPs vineyard, there's work to be cjonev 
Cut the weeds in the morn they will wilt in the sun- 
In my vineyard ^aith God where your labor shall be 
For all work from good motives is all done for me. 



A Letter to my Nephew in the Army. \o\ 

Then commence in the morning of Hfe with good sight ; 
It is better to hil>or in snnshine than night ; 
For your eyes will grow dim, and your strength will decay. 
And your life like the daylight will all pass away. 

Do you ask me what work God would have you to do ? 

To prepare for his work first be honest and true. 

You must put. on an armor of want to do ri^ht^ 

And whatever your hands find, then do with your might. 

Let no dissimulation mar ever your youth, 
Make a firm res(jlution to battle for truth ; 
Yes, let truth be your object, wdiatever you see, 
Speak the truth, have the coiu^age wherever you be. 

For companions to help in the culture of truth, 
Learn of Prudence, Patience, Temperance and Truth ; 
Bear in mind who most honored and lasting their fame. 
Were most truthful and honest, and bore a good name. 

There are noble young men in our parish Pm told, 
Who will not tell a falsehood for silver or gold ; 
May there never arise a temptation so strong, 
As to lead them astray, or persuade them to wrong. 

Pve a high estimation of young ladies too, 
And believe that they aim to be honest and true ; 
And that they would as soon nearly part with a tooth, 
As to do a w^-ong act or to not tell the truth. 

There are nice little boys, also little girls too, 

Who will always be good and no wrong act will do ; 

In the pathway of virtue and truth persevere, 

God will then be your friend, and He always is near. 



A LETTER TO MY^ NEPHEW IN 
THE ARMY. 



I will write to you, dear Francis, 
And the favor will confess, 

Of the letter which vou wrote me. 
And the motive I will bless. 



I03 Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

I was pleased to learn \our welfare. 

That your health is even o-ood ; 
That you are not forced to sutler 

In the camp, for want of food. 

In the morning, in his glory 

Shines the sun, in golden light ; 

In the darkness of the midnight 

Shine the moon and stars all bright. 

That same sun that warms and lights mc. 

And the moon and stars all true ; 
As by Providence directed, 

Warms and lights the path for you. 

In the morning and at evening, 
At midnight or noon of day. 

May the God of Heaven bless you 
In the camp though far away. 

That same God who rules in Heaven, 
And whose blessings on me fall. 

He will hear your supplications. 
If in faith, you on Him call. 

If in health, you learn to trust Him, 
Learn to love as well as fear, 

Then whatever may befall you 
Be assured that He is near. 



TWO LITTLE LOVES PASSED AWAY 



In looking o'er the present and the past, 
I recollect my visit first and last ; 
The first time that I came to visit here, 
A precious baby boy was nigh to cheer. 

I also came here on another day, 
That love was not, for he had passed away ; 
But then a daughter dear had filled his place, 
Full of afiection and of lovely face. 



A Party Selected from the N. L.I. 103 

When passing now where she wast wont to be. 
Her voice I hear not and her face not see ; 
I think I'll see her sometime in the day. 
But yet, I know, she too has passed away. 

Why is it thus that they should die so soon. 
Just as a rose bud plucked before it bloom ? 
Like precious jewels loaned but for a while. 
To be admired, caressed and to beguile. 

The casket quite too frail too last for aye. 
So God who gave them took them both away. 
They now are seraphs wdierc the angels dwell. 
Are praising God, ivho doeth aU things well. 

They with their heavenly wings are hovering near, 
And bid you parents shed for them no tear ; 
Will come to greet you on that changeful day, 
When you from earth to heaven shall pass away. 



A PARTY SELECTED FROM THE N. L. L 



Young men and maidens met together. 
The evening pleasant, moony weather. 
They had amusements youth enjoy 
Nothing unpleasant to annoy. 

One nice young man, I hope it is no harm. 
Perhaps I ought to make apology. 
For saving he has learned to spin fine yarn. 
From fibres gathered from theology. 

We hope he'll learn to weave as well as spin 
A flibric which will wear like heavenly grace, 
And plait a cord to draw^ men's souls from sin. 
And guide them so they run a heavenly race. 

Some brought up tiirmers, may be they 
Will still grow fruit and grain and hay ; 
Some will be teachers, if it suit 
Teach young ideas how to shoot. 



I04 



Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

While others write to get their gain. 
Thus hil)or with their hands and brain ; 
Some mixing drugs prefer to be 
Professors they, of pharmacy. 

Some tend the depot for the train. 
That is the way they get their gain : 
Some get their Hvi ng by the hiw 
And wise conchisions from that draw. 

Their names I think I have not time. 
To make good measure and good rliyme ; 
Andrews, Butterfield, Rogers, Phelps, 
Barker, Metcalf, Cook, good helps ; 

Weston, Barnes and one named Drew, 
Young men of promise, good and true. 
The ladies too were young and fair, 
W^ho with the best will well compare. 

Some have been teachers, will again 
No doubt to eminence attain. 
Some others may prefer instead 
To follow somethinof else or wed. 



"?-) 



Rockwood, Coburn. Hunter, Rideout, 
Misses Prescott, Allen, Drew, 
Clement, Bickford, Low and Burnham, 
Cummings and Miss Thompson, two. 



THE CONSEQUENCES OF LEAVING RE- 
LIGION IN THE SANCTUARY. 



When Mary to the temple went. 

With h.er beloved son 
To worshijD God was her intent. 

The Great, Eternal One. 

Her mind was all absorbed in this 
Great all important theme ; 

Her hopes were bright of future bliss. 
Which made her joy extreme. 



Leaving Religion in the Sanctuai-y. \o^ 

She fed on heavenly manna there. 

Until her soul was filled ; 
Then with her many friends prepared 

Her }onrney to fulfil. 

The hours passed pleasantly awav. 

With joy they all moved on ; 
Until at near the close of day. 

She soug-ht to find her son. 

She sous^ht amonof her friends to find 

Her child till near dispair ; i 

Fear took possession of her mind. 

Her blessed was not there. 

What now was her alternative, ' 

Her steps she must retrace ; 
Although her mind was fiJled with grief. 

She looked to God for grace. 

With anxious steps her w^avs she wound 

Back to the house of God ; 
And there her blessed son she found 

Attending to His word. 

Her sorrow vanished ; she rejoiced 

When she beheld his grace, 
No music sounded like his voice. 

No beams shone like his face. 

The christian to the house of God. 

W'ill oftentimes repair, 
He loves to feed upon His word. 

And feel his presence there. 

The showers of God's refresliJng grace,. 

Like heavenly dews descend. 
The smiles of His benignant face. 

All earthly good transcends. 

With ready heart and witling mind. 

Submissively he bows, 
God's favor ever hopes to find. 

So makes his solemn vows. 



io6 Mrs. Barroii^s Poems. 

Hut soon he leaves the house of God 
And mingles with the gay ; 

Nor knows before he feels the rod. 
How far he's gone astray. 

He seeks among his friends in vain. 

To find that peace he needs ; 
There still within his mind remains 

An aching \()id indeed. 

With true repentance must retrace 
The oblique path he's trod ; 

Plead humbly at the tlu'one of grace. 
The faxor of his God. 

Nor will he seek in vain His grace ; 

The humble, contrite heart 
Will ever lind iiis smiling face. 

Light to the soul imparts. 



MOTHERLESS CHILD. 



Oh, once I had a mother near. 

And she was kind to me ; 
I loved no other one so dear, 

And she loved none like me. 

If any ill betided me. 

She took me in her arms ; 
And told me very plaintively. 

That none should do me harm. 

She often pressed her lips to mine. 

And "-ave me a sweet kiss ; 
And talked to me so very kind. 

It gave me perfect bliss. 

She sometimes made me pretty toys, 
And taught me some new feat; 

And when she smiled on me, mv joys 
W^ere alvyays made complete. 



DeatJi of a Wife and Mother. \o\ 

She also told me that the sun. 

And moon, and stars that shine ; 
Were made by God, the Holy One, 

Eternal and Divine. 

She said although lie lives so high 

Beyond the stars w^e see; 
That when papa or she should die. 

He would take care of me. 

Now she has gone awav and left 

Father and me alone ; 
We feel most sadly now bereft, 

Of our best, dearest one. 

In yonder grave her body lies. 

Beneath a grassy mound ; 
Her spirit lives with God on high, 

Where perfect bliss is found. 



DEATH OF A WIFE AND MOTHER. 



Now darkness and sorrow encompass the dwelling. 
Of lier we have loved, now removed from our sight ; 

There her husband resorts, from society stealing. 
He feels his loss great and it is indeed true. 

He thinks of the home which she once made so happy. 

The smiles on her countenance, ever were bright ; 
He draws now the contrast; his home now is dreary, 

His sunshine of dav now is turned into night. 

Tiiat mr)therless child, how she used to caress him. 
When sick, how she patiently watched by his side ; 

And when in the closet, she prayed God to bless him, 
His footsteps in future lie ever would guide. 

Alas ! she has gone, and her prayers now have ceased. 
No more wnll the sound of her voice e'er be heard ; 

Though she's gone, we have reason to hope she is lilest, 
Through the merits of Christ, for she trusted his word. 



io8 Mrs. Barron s Poems. 

^Though deep is the wound and exceedingly painful, 
To those who bereft of the friend they loved dear : 

Yet the thought that a mansion's prepared for the f^^ithful, 
Is a balm to tlxe wound and assuai^es the tear. 



CHRIST THE CHIEF CORNER STONE. 



Behold in Zion God has laid 

A sure foundation stone ; 
And he need never be afraid, 

Who builds his hopes thereon. 

Elect and precious is His name, ' 
All who His grace secure, 

He will protect from sin and shame. 
His promises are sure. 

And all who trust His smiling face, 
The world can ne'er confound. 

He will reveal His smiling face. 
Life through His name is found. 

Believe in Him and you shall find 

All He has said is true ; 
The graces He reveals combined, 

Are neither small nor few. 

Lord, on that rock help me to build 
My hope of heaven above ; 

Do Thou my soul w^ith manna fill. 
From bounties of Thv love. 



ANSWER TO A LETTER. 



Dear Sister : I received your line. 
It came to hand at proper time : 
I eagerl}' the seal did l)reak. 
To read it quick did undertake. 



Ansivcr to a Letter. 109 

Your sympathies did reach my heart. 
They probed a wound, I felt the smart ; 
The parting scene came up to view. 
Mother was here then well as \ou. 

Methinks I see her sitting there. 
As then she sat in her arm chair; 
With countenance so calm and bland. 
She reached to you the parting hand. 

l)Ut then her hand was warm v\ ith lite. 
Though not with \ outh and vigor rife : 
Disease did prey upon her then, 
vShe was not, what she once had been. 

But in her eves her spirit shone. 

Then she could speak, calm was her tone. 

She l^ade farewell, not as before. 

Ah. no. N'ou ne'er can see her more. 

Vou ask me \yho lier place does fill. 
The corner where she sat so still : 
Her place seems lone and xacant there. 
But father occupies her chair. 

Lone in the corner now he sits, 
\or does his loneliness forget ; 
He mourns her loss with grief sincere. 
For her he sheds the heartfelt tear. 

He says were he as w^ell prepared. 
Had he such christian graces shared. 
Might he as well hope to be blest. 
He gladly now would go to rest. 

That thought does consolation give, 
riiat in yon heaven her spirit lives. 
Where she from su Bering will be free, 
Throughout a long eternity. 

P. S. Methinks I now can see your boys. 
Making a joyful childish noise ; 
Marching so happy to and fro, 
Sino-ine as ever children Lfo. 



no Mrs. Barron'' s Poems. 

Tell them though grandpa Sambo lost, 

That he has bought another horse ; 

A saddle too will he provide. 

If George and Charles will come and ride. 



REFLECTIONS AFTER A 
SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 



The weary hours of night have passed away ; 

Weary, why should they seem, because of pain? 
Darkness of night has given place to-day, 

Lioht of the morn I now behold agfain.- 



*ti' 



What though myself I tossed from side to side. 
Anguish of body caused me thus to do ; 

Should I survey this world, thouoh lono- and wide. 
Devoid of suffering, I should find but few. 

Why should I grieve and murmur at my lot. 

Since God in wisdom causes to be so ; 
And I ere long must die and be forgot, 

And those who know me now, no more will know 

Rejoice, my soul, for nature does rejoice, 

That God in wisdom governs all things well. 

Oh ! tune thy harp, and with the warbler's voice 
In strains of praises long delight to dwell. 

A contrite heart. Lord, thou wilt not despise. 

Oh I then accept this sacrifice from me ; 
Fit me to dwell with Thee, above, above the skies. 

In hallelujah spend eternity. 



DEATH OF AN AGED NEIGHBOR. 



Oiu* aged friend we've borne away. 
And laid him in his narrow bed. 

Four score long \ears have been his days, 
But now he rests liis wcarv head. 



Death of a Toung Wife and Mother. 1 1 1 

Like ripened shocks of full grown corn. 

He's gathered to his fathers ; yet 
Behind are many friends to mourn. 

Who will his favors ne'er forget. 

The widow and the fatherless 

Have found in him a friend in need ; 

And long his memory will bless, 
For he was thus a friend indeed. 

But none his loss so deeply feel, 

As. she who was his bosom friend ; 
A w^ound is made which none can heal, 

Thouo'h many to lier wants attend. 

No longer now she sees him smile. 

Nor hears his voice in humble praver ; 
Lonely and sad she sits the wdiile. 

And by her side, his vacant' chair. 

His oft reud bible, there it lies, 

Precious memento, on the stand ; 
To cheer her pathway to the skies. 

Her index to a better land. 



DEATH OF A YOUNG WIFE AND MOTHER. 



Where is she in whose presence her friends took delight. 
And why are their days now as drear\- as night ; 
Why mioht s]ie no lonwr remain witli them liere. 
To lighten their sorrow^s and life's valley cheer. 

No more will they see the l^right smiles on her face.' 
No more will her presence her family grace ; 
Her voice once so lovely, her e\es once so bright, 
Chilled by death's cold eml)race now are hid from their 
sight. 

She said there were ()l)jects endeared to her heart, 
She wnth husband and child was reluctant to part ; 
And with mother and friends, vet affection's strong tie 
Must be severed at last for she knew she must die. 



112 Mrs. Barron'' s Poems. 

•But said she God in Heaven appears to my aid, 
He has softened my 2^i^^<^^^^^ i^^y bed He has made ; 
All my fears He has quelled by His spirit of grace. 
And my sorrows assuaged by the smiles of His face. 

Death is void now of terror, I fear not to die. 
For I trust that my Saviour will ever be nigh ; 
And the lamp of His love will dispel all the gloom 
Hanging over the valley of death and the tomb. 

When the angel of death in full view she could see. 
She so calmly said. Father of mercies to Thee 
I my spirit commend, soon she vielded her breath. 
And was quietly sleeping the last sleep of death. 

Thus she whom we have loved bade a lasting farewell. 
Her body now sleeps in yon narrow dark cell ; 
But her spirit we trust has ascended to God, 
Where she'll spend an eternitv praising the Lord. 

Tender buds when the parent stem withers and dies. 
Cease to flourish and dying beside of them lie ; 
So her loved little son has death's summons obeyed. 
By the side of his mother his body is laid. 

And how lonely the husband and father bereft, 
Though the wound is severe yet a balm still is left ; 
'Tis the thought that in Heaven the wearv find rest. 
And the hope that in mansions above thev are blest. 



CHRISTIAN ARMOR. 



May God enable me to wear 
A christian armor 'ranofed with care : 
And being clad from feet to head, 
A sinful host I would not dread. 

My head a helmet would seciu-e. 
Made of materials all pure ; 
A golden hope of future bliss, 
Would aught protect mv head 'tis this. 



•St. PanTs Jriiiffipk over Pch'scciitiun. \\ 

May truth encircle me around, 
vSecure my loins from all that wounds. 
Reclaim me should I ever stray, 
Direct my path from dav to day. 

My feet with sandals being shod, 
Of gospel news approved of God ; 
Would cheer me through this vale of tears, 
Remind me God is alwavs near. 

But on my l:>reast what need I there? 
A plate of righteousness to wear ; 
I have none of my own that's sure. 
But what is vain as 'tis impure. 

But one of heavenly mould is made 
Like purest gold without a shade ; 
If fitted on mv breast aright. 
Would shine like stars in darkest ni<rht. 



^ 



Of faith I also need a shield, 

Inflexible as hardest steel ; 

Before me this I wish to bear. 

No darts from foes then would I fear. 

No sword of steel I wish to have, 
Though with it many great and brave 
Have been successful in the field, 
And caused the vanquished foe to yield. 

Sword of the vSpirit is the one. 
Skilfully wrought by God's own son ; 
Would pierce the hardest heart with ease, 
And all opposing soon would cease. 



ST. PAUL'S TRIUMPH OVER 
PERSECUTION. 



What although like tornadoes arise. 

Persecution in every place ; 
And like clouds that o'ershadow the skies* 

All my prospects below shall eflace. 



114 Mrs. Bar I'D lis Poc///s. 

Thout^li await prison darkness and chains. 
And tlie tyrant his scourg-e on me hiv ; 

From my (Uity I will not refrain. 

And m\' mind is not filled with disma\ . 

Though suffering- and death be my lot. 

I will care not. or count my lite dear ; 
All t,hat envy or malice have wrought, 

Don't excite in mv bosom a fear. 

My Saviour has suffered before. 

He has triumphed o'er death and the gra\ e ; 
He alone do I fear and adore. 

And He only is able to save. 

And the hope that I have in His name. 

To my soul like an anchor will be : 
As a vessel bV anchors sustained. 

Would be otherwise tossed by the sea. 

In this world I expect no reward, 
But in Heaven my treasure is laid ; 

There's a mansion prepared by the Lord. 
And a crown He will place on my head. 



SOLILOQUY. 



My soul reflect, consider well. 
Is healthy thy condition ? 
Has Jesus w^ho's all power to sa\e. 
Deigned to be thy physician r 

And has He told thee thou art blest. 
Pronounced thy sins forgiven. 
And promised thee eternal life. 
And called thee heir of Heaven? 

Lord, be it true that Thou art mine. 
And I am Thine forever ; 
Then at my lot, I'll not repine, 
Nor loss of health will grieve for. 



Nearer to the Hand that holds the Rod. 1 15 

MY SEVENTY-SECOND BIRTHDAY, 

THANKSGIVING DAY. NOV. 24. 1881. 



Now shall I tell \ou what is true. 
My age to-day is seventy-two ; 
I know not why I've lived so long. 
Since I through life was never strong. 

God willed and I have much been blest, 
Thougli most mv friends have gone to rest ; 
My youth's companions nearly all 
Have answered to a Father's call. 

Yet I am left 'till this ripe age. 
Would I might feel that I am sage ; 
I'm conscious that as I progress 
I oTow^ not wiser but gTow less. 

I would m\ faitli mioht raise me hiijh. 
That I might see God ever nigh ; 
See Him and feel that He is wdiere 
He'll hear and answ^er to my prayer. 

And feeling thus I'm alwavs blest 

At morn or Iving down to rest ; 

Whv should I doubt, why should I fear.' 

He's Omnipresent, always near. 

I w^ould di;aw nearer to His side, 
Whate'er He gives in Him confide. 
That where I am or how I be. 
He will protect and comfort me. 



NEARER TO THE HAND THAT HOLDS 
THE ROD. 



Lord, draw me nearer to Thy side. 

When I shall feel Thy rod ; 
That I may feel it is not hate, 

But from a loving God, 



ii6 J/rs. Barro)iS Poems. 

And when in\ soul is purified 

As silver tried in fire, 
So it reflect Thine image bright. 

That is niv heart's desire. • 

And \\\\x\ all dross be brushed a\va\-. 

The pure intact remain ; 
What sometimes seems as hard to bear 

Will proAC my greatest gain. 

And like a loving mother's child 

Upon Thv bosom rest ; 
Oh I g-ive me faith and trust and lo\ e. 

Then I am surelv blest. 



EIGHTEEN HUNDRED EIGHTY-ONE 

YEARS SINCE THE FIRST 

CHRISTMAS DAY. 



Just eighteen hundred eighty-one 
Since the first christmas song was sung. 
That song which only angels knew. 
Heard onh- b\- good shepherds few. 



The sonof thev sano^ on that bri^^ht morn 
To vou a blessed child is born : 
He bring-s vou so the angels sang, 
lov and good will and peace to man. 

The news was spread, the wise men heard 
Deemed it fulfillment of God's word. 
Believed the message was divine. 
And sought the new-born babe to find. 

Thev looked and lo I His star was there. 
The}' followed that it led them where 
They found the mother and the child. 
i\ manger was their home the while. 



What Happened Seventy Tears Ago. 117 

Th()u<i^h low and lonely was their bed, 
Eacli wise man hnmblv bowed his head ; 
Their homage paid, their gifts unfold 
Of mvrrli and frankincense and gold. 

Since tliat hrst Christmas day began, 
That promise has been blest to man ; 
Many good presents have been given, 
Bnt music none like that from heaven. 



WHAT HAPPENED SEVENTY YEARS AGO. 



Just seventv years have come and gone. 

Just seventy years to-day, 
Since the first mark of memory cast 

On m\' mind its first rav. 

I know not was the weather fair 

Or was it fidli ng snow. 
For I was not out in the air. 

Hut in the house I know. 

My years then nimibered onlv two, 

I thought it quite unkind. 
When hunting for my mother so. 

In vain I could not find. 

Though late she had not risen yet. 
Might have an aching head ; 

Perhaps she needed still more rest. 
And so remained in bed. 

My father took me to the room. 

Raised me so I could see ; 
Wonder of wonders lying there. 

The sight appeared to me. 

Qiiietly sleeping in the bed, 

I^eside my mother dear ; 
An unexpected view indeed. 

To my sight did appear. 



Ii8 Mrs. Barron's^ Poems. 

No other than a baby boy, 

And my own brother too ; 
Dressed in a pink and white print wraj), 

And that looked bright and new. 

That baby though so small grew up, 

Life's duties to pursue ; 
A manly form both stcnit and strong. 

Height six feet inches two. 

The age of three-score years and five. 

Was his appointed time ; 
Then went to join those gone before. 

Left many friends behind. 



I CANNOT WEEP. 



I cannot shed the bitter tear. 

Though dearest friends lie on the bier ; 

My father's family all dead. 

And many tears for them I've shed. 

But now tear's fountain seems grown drv 
No springs of grief o'erflow the eve ; 
Not that I have no feeling yet. 
Not tliat I would mv friends forg-et. 

But I the goal have nearly won. 
And I, like them, will soon be gone ; 
Some other will my place supply. 
And scarcely know the reason why. 

My childhood's home I've seen to-dav. 
Seen my last l:)rother borne awav ; 
Brother or sister I have none. 
And I the last survive alone. 

Whate'er that home in future be, 
I would not grieve tliough sad to me ; 
I cannot change beneath the su)i. 
What can't be helped and must be done. 



Meeting a School Girl ivhilc on a journey. 119 

That house a sunny spot has been 

To me, to others may again ; 

I would who owns that home may tlirive, 

x\nd in prosperity may live. 

May future generations bless 
All those who thence have gone to rest ; 
When I am o'one, oh, mav thev not 
Who bear the name the future blot. 

My father who in Heaven art, 
I praise Th\' name with all my heart ; 
Build up Thv kingdom in my soul. 
And of my spirit keep control. 

Help me to know^ my duty all. 
Increase my faith on Thee to call ; 
To guide me in the path of good. 
And feed mv soul with Heavenly food. 

Wlien I with earth shall quite be done. 
Last prayer have said, last song have sung ; 
My eyes grow dim, I cannot see. 
Then light the passage, Lord, for me. 

If Thou appear to light the way. 
Then will the dark give place to day ; 
Then I shnll know that I am right. 
Shall sure attain to perfect light. 

Blest be Thy name for hope like this, 
Hope for a future perfect bliss ; 
Where hope is not and faith will be 
All sw^allowed up of victory. 



MEETING A SCHOOL GIRL WHILE ON 
A JOURNEY. 



As an old lady started to visit some friends, 
VVitli no female companion her wants to attend ; 
liut a gentleman kindlv was careful and true. 
And he aided lier truly in all that he knew. 



120 Mrs. Barron'' s Poems. 

As they stopped at a depot for chano-e and a rest. 
While awaitiiii^- the cars havino; lieen well retreshcJ ; 
She went out to the sink, hathed her hands and her face 
But could not hnd her napkin or one in Hie ]:>lace. 

Now a beautiful school oirl of only sixteen. 
Thus befriended the lady she never had seen ; 
I have one in \w\ satchel, as vou are alone 
And if you will accept 1 will oi\e nou the loan. 

And now ^^-raridniother please, in niild accents said she. 
Deem it not an intrusion in noticin<>- thee ; 
(jreat respect for old ladies I cherish with -care, 
And woidd do them a fa^'or wherever thev are. 

And I have an old i4-randmother dearlv I lo\e. 
And T like to go with her wherever she rove ; 
I enjoy it as well as to wait on a child. 
And she loves me as dearly, is pleasant and mild. 

Now one thing in your dress please I think I would 

change. 
If you wish me to do so \s ill help you arrange ; 
vSo she untied a ribbon, removing the bov^% 
Tied it where quite as usefid but not as much show. 

Adding other small favors that showed she had grace. 
Which welled up from her heart as it shone in her face ; 
Since I found that oasis, four years now have passed- 
As it was the first meeting as likely the last. 

It was quite unexpected as pilgrims well know. 
Where are green grass and flowers and bright waters flo\\- ; 
But her name. Birdie Clement, I would not forget. 
And her face like a picture it lives with me \et. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY, 

FEBRUARY 22iND. 1882. 



One hundred and fifty years to-day, 
George Washington was born ; 

No prophet lived his fate could tell 
On that eventful morn. 



Georo'c \]\isJNHofo)j\^ JMrtJuhiv. 121 

He phived as other children phi\ . 

Iiululged as others, too ; 
A hatchet even was allowed. 

With wliich lie learned to hew. 

His parents taii^s^-ht-him what was rio-ht. 

^Vll doubtful ways eschew ; 
When dut\' called with all his mi^ht. 

Coin"ao"eousl\- }3ursuc. 

He built the structure of his fame 

On that sure i^^ranite base : 
He towered abo\e all his compeers. 

And won in every race. 

While liberty her sceptre sways 

O'er this, our blessed land ; 
The fame George W.ashino^ton has reared. 

Untarnished let it stand. 

Like a s^ranite monument 

Not subject to deca\ ; 
And hearts with LCratitude intent. , 

That he liyed in his day. 

Then let us raise our thankful hearts 

To (jod who blest our land ; 
Who furnished us with Washinoton 

And all his patriot band. 

The germ those patriots planted then, 
■ Now a colossal tree : 
On all its branches still bears fruit 
Both' savory and free. 

No mossy limbs, no pruning needs. 

Thoup'h old leaves still are "'reen ; 
Though many sit l)eneath its sliadc. 

There vet is room T ween. 

Then come and sit beside the sons 

Of those brave patriot sires ; 
It needs no sacrihce of blood. 

No light of night camp-fires. 



133 Mi'S. Jyarroji's Pocjns. 

Liberty holds her torcli on hioh. 

A hriii^ht electric li^ht ; 
A cloud that guides her hosts bv d:i\ , 

Bright as the sun at night. 



TAXING ORIGINAL POETRY. 



Of the numerous gods that inhabit the stars, 

There are Jupiter, Mercury, Vulcan and Mars, 

The god ITernes paints pictu.res of thought on tlie brain. 

Whicli if healtlu' and strong the impressions retain. 

It may germinate, grow till the plan has been \yrought. 
And may come to bear fruit of some beautiful -tliought ; 
And \yhen fulK dexeloped ])erfected the plan. 
A sure title to \yisdom the mind of the man. 

Such a man he must be who suggested the fact. 
That original poetry ought to be taxed ; 
I would like well to know what the yalue may be. 
And the tax on this item tlie portion to me. 

Now that poets are poor it is well understood. 
Scarcely able to clothe or to buy themselves food ; 
I do hope that the assessors, wise men as they be. 
Will be kind to the poor and haye pity on me. 

If I can't raise the money in some other way, 
I vyill mortgage this fruit of my brain so to pay : 
And as water of drops fill the ocean, the land 
Is made up of the j^articles smallest of sand. 

So the fund [ may raise \erv small as you see. 
Will be so much to fdl uj) the box treasury ; 
If enough be collected no one will regiet. 
If it eyen can pa\- oH' the wdiole cit\' debt. 

Make the bridsfes and streets all fn^ comfort and health. 
Win respect from the ]:)ublic as man for his wx^alth. 
And if surplus enough then may safely be said. 
When all needful is done let the eagle's wings spread. 



A Crow Caught hi a Trap. 123 

THE FATHER SEES AND HEARS. 



The Father sees the sparrows fall. 

And hears the raven cry ; 
The pleading of the needv's call, 

Notes with a watchful eve. 

I know that He will hear me too, 
Aye, faith direct w\\ prayer. 

Nor will it he an eniptv sound. 
Dissolving- in the air. 

Father, please tlo increase niv faith. 

vSo I Thy presence feel ; 
i\nd as I proo-ress toward \w\ end. 

^lore of mv j^race rexeal. 

While passins^- through the glooniv vale. 

ThouH'h drearv. black as ni^jfht. 
Th}' glorious countenance reveal, 

The morn will all be li2"ht. 



A CROW CAUGHT IN A TRAP. 



A farmer had planted a field with corn. 
And the rain had wet and the sun had warmed. 
And the corn had sprouted and germs of green 
But just peeping out of the ground were seen. 

As die owner walked over his farm to see 

In \\ hat kind of condition his fields might be ; 

And he found that without a mistake the crows 

Had been raiding his field and been robbing the rows. 

And to lose his corn after so much care. 
He was not verv willing in peace to bear : 
So to show the crows that he had a right 
To defend his field and as willing quite. 



124 Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

That he set a trap and covered the same 
With earth, then fastened it down with a chain ; 
And then on the trencher he strewed some corn, 
Leaving- nothing of danger the crows to warn. 

The next morning I stood at the farm-house door, 
And the beauties of nature was scanning o'er ; 
A most beautiful sight as is seen in May, 
All the trees were in bloom looking bright and gay. 

And they seemed to be saying we by and by 

Will bear fruit and do more than to please the eve ; 

I thus looking around and admiring I stood. 

And my thouohts 'rose in thanks to the Author of ofood. 

On a sudden a sound of distress reached my ear, 
It was caw 1 caw ! caw ! caw ! caw I caw ! I could hear ; 
And I soon saw the cause for a crow in the trap 
Calling loudly for help and his wings all aflap. 

All the crows from the forests soon came to his aid, 
And all the encouraging motions they made. 
And they all flapped their wings and each seeming to sav 
Do your best brother crow we will help vou away. 

They would rise from the g^round as if ready to or^. 
He would do all his best but he could not, oh no, 
He would cry out caw ! caw ! rise the length of his chain. 
Then fall back to the ground with unbearable pain. 

But his friends did not leave liim each doing his best. 
There were twenty or more came from north, east and west. 
They kept soaring, then lighting, he trying to gain. 
But he soon came to see that his efforts were vain. 

When he found hope was gone and no help for him saw. 
The most sad lamentations his last caw I caw ! caw ! 
When the rest saw his case was a desperate one. 
And that all in their power to relieve him was done ; 

Then such sorrow those birds show as I never saw. 
Slowly rising and doling out caw ! caw ! caw ! caw I 
After rising sufficient each leaving the rest. 
Took a different course to its perch or its nest. 



Not All the Good Have Left. 125 

Soon they all disappeared I no more of them saw, 
Like the tolling- of bell the last sound was caw I caw I 
But a lesson I learned though called thieving and black. 
That regard for their fellows thev surely don't lack. 

And wdiile hope still remained they did not leave him there. 
Were not willing to leave until forced by despair ; 
But the crow in the trap that w^as killed for a scare, 
So the others could see if thev ever came there. 

And the corn growing taller, the fields growing green. 
Yet no crow in that held ever after was seen. 



NOT ALL THE GOOD HAVE LEFT. 



Some think the good are all gone by ; 
That none are left beneath the sky, 

But all are gone before ; 
But I opine it is not so. 
That some still lino-er here below. 

I know there is one Moore. 

God bless such ones, and mav they live, 
Who can such aid and comfort give. 

To cheer the widow^'s heart ; 
May he ne'er lack the kindly aid. 
When feeble, he shall be afraid, 

His manlv strength depart. 

When eyesight fails he cannot see. 
And all surrounding's seem to be 

No more than moonless night ; 
Then, may his soul grow strong in hope, 
A vision see as he looks up, 

A clear, eternal light. 

Like James of old, who was no shirk 
And chose to show his faith bv work. 

His Master's footsteps take. 
Paul's faith, John's love were good and true. 
Finish the ladder, could not do : 

James the last round did make. 



1 26 Airs. Barroji\s Pooiis. 

Heaven's door was opened wide for him. 
The an<(eLs met him from within 

And bade him welcome there ; 
Then taught him sont^s, and how to sin": 
Hosannas to the Heavenly Kino", 

Praise took the place of pra\'er. 



MAY MORNING. 



Feed mv soul with heavenly manna. 

As Thou didst Thy saints of old ; 
Plant within my bosom germs which 

Will the fruit of grrace unfold. 



& 



Thou, alone, oh God who hears me, 
Thou alone can'st answer prayer ; 

May I feel that Thou art near me. 
And that Thou for me dost care. 

Guide me in the path of dut\', 
How^ to do the rioht and ""ood ; 

Thou hast made all nature's beauty. 
All my wants supply and food. 

On this lovely May day morning-, 
Lookinof for what I misfht see ; 

Lo ! a robin, bright and early, 

Perched on topmost branch of tree. 

Tall the tree so high and airy. 

Where no enemy can go ; 
Sings his matin songs like fair}-. 

Beating time swings to and fro. 

Has he not an inspiration. 

Taught by angels how to sing ; 

Let us join with glad elation. 

Song to praise our heavenly king. 

May I rise above surroundings. 
Which shall bind my soul below : 

All my enemies confounding. 
Wings of faith on me bestow. 



A Farmer Who Wanted A Wife. 12^ 

T woiiUl scv)rn no lowly duty. 

Th()UL!^]i the work be small I do ; ^ 

Gathering worms the l)ird adds beauty. 

In the "arden workin"- too. 



A FARMER WHO WANTED A WIFE. 



A younp- man bou«-ht himself a farm. 
On which were built a house and barn : 
The landscape beauty did not lack. 
On the fiiir banks of Merrimac. 

As tiring- of a single lif-. 
He thought to find himself a wife ; 
But waited 'til some time might show 
What would be best for him to do. 

An ordination in those days. 
Drew people many miles away ; 
And he concluded he would go. 
Though fifteen miles, and see the show. 

The candidate to be ordained, 
A pious reputation gained ; 
Council approving of the man. 
Confirmed by laying on of hands. 

Few carriage roads, more carriages lacked 
And most all rode on horse's backs ; 
And when the services were o'er. 
The people gathered near the door. 

The ladies stepped up on the block, 
When seated, off the horse would trot ; 
One waiting caught the farmer's eye, 
He thought her lovely ; drawing nigh. 

He said, dear lady, if you please, 
I'll raise you to your seat with ease. 
He did not wait for an excuse, 
And had he, would have been no use. 



I zS Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

He reached his hands and arms full len^rth, 
^ With courage quite as well as strength ; 
Politeness, too, he did not spare. 
On her side-saddle placed her there. 

Cupid that moment sped his dart. 
Directly piercing both their hearts ; 
Though strangers, to each other then 
Found each the one nained bv a friend. 

Not long before he sought her home. 
Resolv^ed for no one else to roam ; 
He went to where her parents lived. 
Asked if her hand and heart would <J:ive. 

Believed as seeming, he was good. 
Trustingly ansvs'ered that she would ; 
She'd many things her hands had made, 
Had spun and woven different grades. 

Few things for keejDing house were b(jught. 
But most with willing hands were wrought ; 
As she had not much more to do. 
Ready and willing he was too. 

And three months only passed away. 
Ere came' the joyful wedding dav. 
Pleasant as sunny June or May, 
The morn of that September day. 

As they were happv. feeling blest. 
All joyful, the invited guests. 
Another week, for reasons known. 
He left her at her father's home. 

Then mounting on one horse to ride. 
And led another for his bride ; 
Next day all readv, bride and groom, 
Each on a horse rode to his home. 

Happy were they arriving there. 
To her his home now hers looked fair. 
At night the cows came from the field. 
The burden of their milk to yield. 



Lorenzo Dow Raising the Devil. 139 

She took a pail, and with good will. 
An expert, soon the pail did till. 
She made good cheese for old or new. 
And made the best of butter too. 

Each year they had a crop of wool, 
Made cloth of flannel or to full. 
Raised flax, and that prepared to spin,. 
And weave in cloth, for thick or thin. 

Their children in those times the w'ay. 
Were taught to w^ork as well as play ; 
Their sons grew up, all stout and strong. 
Were taught do right and shun the wrong. 

All military^ titles wore, 

Justice of peace thev also bore. 

Three daughters were their parent's pride. 

Cared for when voung. old age their guide ; 

When feeble, needing constant care, 
Their daughters ceased not to be there. 
And all the aid their hands could do. 
If only one or needing two. 

Long since those parents passed away. 
All of the children gone for aye ; 
Except one daughter, she alone 
Remains to tell of that loved home. 

vShe lookino; forward to that day. 
When she like them will pass away ; 
When with her loved ones gone before. 
Will meet nor part forevermore. 



LORENZO DOW RALSING THE DEVIL, 



Lorenzo Dow in days of yore, 
Whose head was filled vs^ith gospel lore. 
Was thought divinely called of God. 
To preach, proclaim the news abroad. 



130 Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

From house to house he preached the word, 
Presumed to be inspired of God ; 
Needed no manuscript to read, 
Nor articles of faith or creed. 

Citizen of the world was he, 

And no sectarian would be ; 

No matter when or where he was. 

The simier's friend espoused his cause. 

From house to house, from town to town. 
He preached repentance all around ; 
If one more wicked in his way. 
Talked to, and tauo'lit him how to prav. 

In going his accustomed round, 
The day was spent, the sun went down. 
Seeing a cottage dwelling near. 
Asked can I find a lodging liere. 

The woman kindly said 'tis true, 
I'll do the best I can for you ; 
Please tie your horse, it can 1ie fed, 
I'll give you supper and a bed. 

So after evening prayers were said. 
The woman showed his wav to bed ; 
And soon he learned a man was there. 
Who was not at the evening prayer. 

He heard them talking very low. 
So what they said, he might not know ; 
But by and by there came a scare. 
The woman's husband was not there. 

If husband, thus the woman said. 
Should find us here, would strike us dead : 
When he comes home, with liquor wild. 
Shows us no favor, me or child. 

W^here can I hide.^ prav tell me where? 
No egress but one door is there ; 
She knew no place that she could show. 
Except a cask near, holding tow. 



Lorenzo Doiv Raising the Devil. 131 

And she some tow took in her liand. 
Said, jump in quickly, to the man ; 
Curl down and keep still, so she said, 
I'll hide you till he goes to bed. 

Then jumping in that man so mean. 
Hid by the tow, could not be seen ; 
When just complete, no moment more. 
The husband entered by the door. 

And as his custom was to swear. 
Talked loud, then sat down in a chair. 
His wife she tried to calm him down, 
But no quietus could be found. 

Please make less noise, she calmly said, 
Lorenzo Dow is in our bed. 
Lorenzo Dow.^ I want to see? 
And he is just the man for me. 

Though pious, sings so well, and pravs, 
'Tis said the devil he can raise ; 
Now let him try for me his skill. 
To raise the devil at his will. 

He would not stop for all she said, 
Was forced to ask Dow leave his bed. 
He tried his best wdth new excuse. 
To calm him. but all proved no use. 

Dow said, sir, it may not be right. 
Should I the devil raise to-nio-ht ; 
it you msist, no reason why, 
Though I may fjiil yet I can try. 

But one demand I make before. 
That you must open wide the door ; 
Not well obstruct him in his flight. 
Force liim to stay liere through the night. 

He told his host to stand aside. 
To make the passage clear and wn'de ; 
Then called ihe devil from below. 
And witii a candle touched the tow. 



132 A/rs. Z>(7/'ro7/\s' Poems. 

He called him earnestly and loud. 
And quick as lio'itning- from a cloud. 
He darted forth, tlevil or man, 
Make of the two, the choice \-ou can, 

The host was satisfied, and knew 
What his own eyes saw must be true 
To try to change iiis faitli were y.iin, 
Dow sure could do the same ag-ain. 



WOOING AND WINNING IN 
OLDEN TIMES. 



If a maid be wortli the winnino-. 
She is siu'ely worth the wooino-. 

So Priscilla said to John in da\ s of vore ; 
Is your friend in such a hurr\-. 
And in such a mighty Hurrv, 

He would not be worth \\\\ wedding [ am sure. 

Should I wed the title only. 
Would be mine, I should be lonely. 

He would not haye any time to spend, not he ; 
Now I sooner still be spinner. 
If I cannot be the winner. 

Of some one whom I can lo\e, and will hne me. 

Who will sit before the lire. 
And his humble home admire. 

And be happy in our quiet home to stay ; 
Who will try to be contented. 
Let whate\er be in^'ented. - 

Wliich \yould cause him from his fireside to stra\- 

As the captain is courageous. 
Can in fighting get outrageous. 

Not afraid to face a cannon or a foe ; 
He must screw his courage higlier. 
And prepare to meet the hre. 

From a woman's moutli accept tlie answer no. 



Wooiiio- atid Wiiiiihioi)/ OJih^n ^F/jnes. 13^ 

John, if you liave an\ cr^n ing-. 
And l)elieve me worth the ha\'in<4\ 

Speak your mind, and show the courage of a man ; 
I tliink we miofht live too-ether. 
l>e it fair or stormy weather. 

And \)it liappy if another couple can. 

And the\ talked the matter o\'er. 
All looked fair as fields of cloyer. 

Hoth decitled he be hrides^room. she he brick* ; 
She woidd keep lier spinnini^' ^^'oini^-. 
And her weaviiii^', knitting-, sexyini^-. 

\w(\ that John shouhl for them botli a house pro\ i(k'. 

So before tlie time of NNcddinii;. 

Made her sheets and quilts for heckling. 

And her towels, and lier clothes herself to wear ; 
And what else she might be needing. 
She was careful in her heeding, 

Alade them ready antl done up witli the nicest care. 

So himself he made a dwelling. 
With his hands as he \yas \yilling. 

All the comforts lie liad means he did proN'ide ; 
All things needed, bei i'>- ready. 
W^ith united tlioughts looked steady. 

1\) the day when he l)e l:>ridegroom. she be' In'ide. 

Then to see the two united. 
All the neighbors were inviteck 

And the\- had a jolh time, as one could be : 
In tliose (lavs it was the custom. 
All the lads and lasses buxom 

Were invited, so the luiptials tliey might see. 



Then the lovely bride like Iris, 
Mounted on the god Osiris. 

With her husband for the groom to guide the wa\ 
vSo they went that pleasant morning. 
Finished up their home's adorning, 

Witii their happy hearts, and cheerful faces ga\ , 



134 



Mrs. Barron^ s Poeuis. 
WAITING. 



I'm waiting for the messenger. 

Soon coming after me ; 
And though my sight is growing (hm, 

Wlien he comes. I shall see. 

VViiat shall I see? When I shall ope 

My eves, with perfect sight. 
I'll see the loved ones gone before, 

All clothed with glorious light. 

My hearing though imperfect now. 

Unwelcome songs I hear ; 
When I shall leave this house behind. 

All sounds will then be clear. 

Tiiis voice which sometimes trembles now 

When joining those above ; 
No want of harmony will show, 

Where all is jov and love. 

This bodv frail, so oft in pain. 

I'll leave it here behind ; 
Its loss, I shall not feel, but gain. 

When I a better find. 

Death o'er me cannot triumph more. 

The grave, no victory win ; 
Wlien I shall leave this mortal life, 

Immortal will begin. 

My loving friends will not be all 

Whom I expect to see ; 
But He who is my maker, God, 

A welcome bid to me. 

Then I shall know, why I so long 

Have sufiered here below ; 
But I shall never suffer more. 

No sorrow more shall know. 



There Is no Merit. 135 

THERE IS NO MERIT. 



There is no merit in one being good. 

If he has no temptation ere withstood ; 

Nor is there merit in not being poor. 

If lie has friends wlio give, and will give more. 

Charitv hides a multitude of sins. — 
And giving favors, many favors wins ; 
Love for a neiofhbor. love in turn beo;ets. 
And c(^ld indifference, wins cold neglects. 

There is no merit, well, it mav be said. 
We are Republicans, in heart and head ; 
The Goddess Liberty we're taught to mind 
From youth, and worsliip onh' at her shrine. 

Those who are ruled bv despots only know 
That they're allowed to vegetate and grow ; — 
Since the^■ can ha\e no more what'er they crave, 
What else can thev do — but be subjects, slaves ! 

There is no merit that a man is \vise. 
If he have intellect to analyze 
All nature's works, the causes and effects. 
He would be culpable — if he neglects I 

There is no merit if a man be great, 

That he should wisely guide the ship of state ; 

And should he wreck it on the factious shores. 

He would not less be blamed, but blamed the more. 

There is no merit in a comely face. 
And would it were, an index true of grace ; 
'Tis well or else we might as truly find. 
An ugh' face suggests an uglv mind. 

There is no merit thiit the child obev 

His parent's wishes, cheerful every day : 

It is a dutv every child shoidd do. 

And blessintjfs follow such, as wron"; eschew. 



1-^6 Mrs. Bai-ro^i^s Poems. 

There is no merit — that a man can give. 
His bounty, lessening not, his means to Hve ; 
He sacrifices nothing — which he need. 
The satisfaction felt, should he his meed. 

The good, the wise, the great, the patriot true, 
Benevolent, obedient and handsome too ; 
Peace to vou all, and blessings on you rest ; 
Pursue the right, you always shall be blest.. 



THE PARwSON AND HIS NEIGHBOR, 



It happened many years ago, 

'Phere came a heavy fall of snow ; 

The wind v^as strong, all through the day. 

And piled the snow up every way. 

Next day, the morn was bright and fair, 
A parson wished to take the air ; 
So donned his coat, (liad doffed his gown), 
And started off toward the town. 

A young mun met liim on the way, 
Whose health was good, his heart was gay ; 
The parson's dut}' was you see, 
Preach morals and theology. 

They met, and after shaking hands. 
Thus to the parson spoke the man : 
But for the color of your coat. 
Which I with due respect must note ; 

I'd like, before I farther go, 
To put Your Reverence in the snow. 
Oh I never mind my coat, said he. 
My coat makes no respect for me. 

So, if you wish, we'll take a hand, 
vSee which will prove the smartest man ; 
The young man showed the ready will. 
To act his courasre and his skill. 



A Little Star. 137 

The parson proved the strongest thoiigli. 
And threw the other in the snow ; 
Then to complete the fim, "His Grace" 
Washed with the snow the young- man's face. 

The color of their coats, the while 
Was quite enough to make one smile ; 
All reverence, which the young man paid 
To black coats, in the snow drift laid. 



A LITTLE STAR. 



In yonder sky I see a star. 

No bigger than an eye ; 
To be so small, it must be far 

Awav, and verv hiofh ! 



;->' 



If God has made that star to be 
A globe, on which to live ; 

Did He to man whose home is there. 
Free agencv too give? 

I wonder if an Adam there. 

An apple ever ate ; 
If Satan magnetized an Eve, 

And learned mankind to hate ? 

1 wonder if the fashions there 
Make men and women slaves ; 

Expense of which, some cannot brook. 
But learning to be knaves. 

If fashion is a goddess there. 
With such ungoverned power. 

That on her altar sacrifice 
Is made, each dav and hour? 

The lovliest of all God's works, 
The youth in beauty's prime, 

Because to dress for comfqrt would 
Be thought so much a crime I 



l[^^ A/rs. JJa/-ro//\s Pacini. 

\'()iiii<;- men must wear their cotton hose 
With congress shoes so thin ; 

To let the water to their feet. 
To keep tiiem (h"\- were sin. 

And then to wear tiiick l)oots would he 

So much like to a lout ; 
'Tis better they should die when \ oun^- 

Than see youno- ladies pout. 

Do misses wear tiieir hose and shoes. 

To show their prett\ feet; 
And do their naked arms and neck. 

Their toilet make complete. 

I wonder if consumption there, 

Is fashion for to die I 
The reason why some people don't 

To sa^'e their children try .^ 

I wonder if the l)al)ies there. 

Must dress in naught but white ; 

Because forsooth, if they dress warm. 
The\- look like little frio-hts? 

I woncler if old people there. 

Are onh in the way ; 
For children must have all the room 

Because they lo\ e to play? 

I wonder if 'tis wrono- to teach 
What doctor Franklin taught ; 

'Tis better save a dime than to 
Earn two and save them not.? 

I wonder if a man must spend 

His earnings e^'er^' day ; 
Or else he could not be so much 

In fashion, and as ga\ ? 

x'\nd many things that I could name, 
Fd like to know were there ; 

But since I can no answer find. 
More question I will spare- 



A lit mini. 139 

AUTUMN. 



Aulunin comes with varied beaiit\'. 

Red and vell()\\-. brown and <^rey : 
Showino^ summer's done its dutv, 

HaA'ino- done has passed awav. 

Now the trees with fruit are loaded, 
Fields of j^rain are ripe and cere ; 

And the wants wiiich some foreboded. 
Banished now we cease to fear. 

Beets and turnips and tomatoes. 

Mellons. squashes, pumpkins bri*i,ht : 
Beans and man\ kinds potatoes. 

AjDples \ellow. oreen and white. 

Pears and aj^ricots and ])eaches. 

Grapes and ]:)lumbs of various hues ; 
Qiiinces of the various species. 

Barberries, cranberries too. 

Parsnips, carrots, rutabai^as. 

Mano-el-wurzel. cabbages. 
Peppers, cucumbers : and sage is 

Good for seasoning sausages. 

There are many nuts I think of. 
Chestnut, hickory are fine ; 

'J'here are fuiits to make g(K)d drink of. 
Elderberries make good wine. 

Some sav w ine made of tomatoes 
Ecjuals that of good champaigne ; 

Some think whiskey of potatoes 
Ec[uals w'hat is made of grain. 

MauN' herbs, botanies mention. 

Good for sickness doctors think ; 
Manv more too much to mention. 

(toocI for man for food and drinks 



140 Mrs. Barron s Poems. 

SPRING. 



How lonely is the \cinal inorii. 

When nature clievssed in ^ax attire. 
And- music on the air is borne. 

As feathered songsters tune their 1\ res. 

The stateh oak his tblia^e shows. 

The truit tree blossoms nature grace : 
The violet more obscureh grows. 
But still she shows a lovelv face. 

I would that vou might alwa\s sta\ . 

\'e emblems fair of vouth in bloom ; 
Alas ! your beaut\ must decay. 

And youth must ripen for the tomb. 

Less showy is the staff of life. 

Her carpet spreads of choicest green ; 
Her germs with future good are rife. 

Though smiling blossoms are not seen. 

So \ irtue neetls no ga\ attire. 

x\ntl modesty is void of bloom : 
^lay we such graces hence acquire. 

As \ ield their fruits bevond the tomb. 



FAREWELL TO WINTER. 



Old w inter. I see him receding at last. 
His sleety old garb and his boreal blast ; 
And euroclydon chills which united to freeze. 
Are fast giving place to a ditierent breeze. 

\\ hen he came into power he assumed to be 
Both a friend to fair nature and humanitx : 
And pretending to good, while the sceptre he s\\a\ 
He has tyranizetl over and had his own wa\ . 



I^ittle Nettie to her Bereaved Friends. 141 

Like all other txrants who can't be subdued, 

Who have no hearts to sympathize and are im])ued 

With ambition to govern with absolute sway, 

W^ith the orasp of a monster chained all in his wa\ . 

As the kino- of the Hebrews who did not e'en spare. 
The wise or the ignorant, uglv or fair ; 
vSo he slew all the weak, paralyzed all the strong. 
Which he co*uld not destrov as he progressed along. 

Young spring like a prince with his courtiers gav, 
Led by old father Sol he is hastening his way ; 
And smiling will send forth his bland vernal breath. 
He will melt winter's heart and consign him to death. 

When he triumj^hs completeh the tvrant is slain. 

He will call on his songsters to pour forth their 

strains : 
And the ga\' feathered warl)lers will tune up their lyres. 
And will chant forth a melodv all will admire. 

Then fair nature will rise from her silent retreat. 
And rejoice at the conquest his presence will greet ; 
With modest appearance when blooming her life, 
When omens of some future si'ood alwa\- rife. 



LITTLE NETTIE TO HER 
BEREAVED FRIENDS. 



I have found mv little brother. 

Who was in the spirit land : 
He came to me now an angel. 

And he took me bv the hand. 

And we soared avvav together. 

To the home of spirits bright 
Where there is no sin or sorrow 

Aiul God's glorv is the light. 



142 Mrs. Barrov^s Poems. 

Weep not tlien that we did lea\e vou. 

God so willed we should not stay ; 
For the world is filled with trouble, 

So he took us both awav. 

When you pass the gloomy valle\', 
If God wills it we will come ; 

And will be your guardian angels. 
For to guide your spirits home. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Creator of the universe. 

How glorious, is thy throne ; 
All that is now, or was at first. 

Reveals all power thine own. 

Look down, from Heaven, th\ dwelling place, 

Each heart subdue and bless ; 
Save Lord, by Thine Almight\' grace. 

Each soul from sin oppressed. 

And may Thy spirit cheer our way. 

Yea, dissipate all gloom ; 
Reveal to us. eternal day. 

So bright, bevond the tomb. 



A SONG FOR A LITTLE BOY. 



I love my mother so I do. 
I and my little sister too ; 
Because she is so good and kind. 
Her every wish we'll aim to mind. 

Our father too we love him well. 
He is so kind we cannot tell 
One half the fa\ors he bestows. 
He buys us candy, food and clothes. 



True FrionisJiip. 143 

And mother w'ith the nicest care. 
Prepares the food and clothes we wear ; 
Slie sometimes makes us pretty toys. 
And says we are our parent's jo vs. 

And fatlier when his work is done, 
He sings us songs and makes us fun ; 
And tells us stories for to please. 
And dandles us upon his knees. 

Oh, what a happy family, 
Our parents and ourselves will he ; 
If we shall earlv learn to do. 
As both our parents wish us too. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Nay I woidd never here indite 
A stanza or attempt to write ; 
Nor would I blot this page so pure. 
Could real friendship not endure. 

Yes, such a pledge I claini from tliee. 
May you accept the same from me ; 
And may no sorrow fill thy breast, 
Nor rob thee of thv \vonted rest. 

Now be thv path witli laurels strewed. 
In wisdom be your mind imbued ; 
Nor should your mind e'er be oppressed, 
(ii^'e Cyod vour heart, vour soid he'll l)less. 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 



I ask not friendship from those called great. 
For they are are wed to fame in halls of state ; 
Nor do 1 seek it 'mong tlie rich and gav. . 
Al)sorl)e(l in pleasures of tlie passing day. 



144 



A/rs. Jyorrop/s Pocj)is. 

Xor in tiie busy walks of liuman lite, 
\Vherc selHshness predominate ami strife : 
And every heart to emulation teiuls. 
I>\ competition to secure his ends. 

Nor \yoidd I seek from those whose end is fanu'. 
For merit sometimes tails that end to ^ain ; 
And those who do that ajDpellation hear. 
Don't always merit laurels which the\' wear. 

But I 'mong the wise woidd friendship seek. 
Who with their lips do never scandal speak ; 
Who can with patience their own troubles bear. 
Nor would suppress a sympathetic tear. 

One who in time of sorrow and distress, 
Visits the widow and the fatherless ; 
And who will ever be a friend indeed, 
In time of fortime or in time of need. 

Yes, such a friend as that would T secure. 
Who with m^• imperfections could endure ; 
And shoidd base scandal aim to wound my heart. 
Would raise a shield to ward the demon's dart. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



If Jesus raised the widow's son. 

Restored to life one chilled by death 
And by his miohtv power alone. 

Expand his lun^s. restore his breath-. 

Will he in mercy condescend. 

In thy distress to hear thy prayer ; 
New^ vio-or to thy system send. 

New )o\ and hope for thee prepare. 



On the Death of My Little Friend. 145 

TO A FRIEND. 



Methinks I see you walk the house. 

Mementos scan with care ; 
In all you find an aching void. 

Your mother is not there. 

Though all around are kind and good, 

Your father still is there ; 
No music like her once loved voice. 

No one to fill her chair I 

May not her sons a monument, 
wShe reared with so much care. 

Be one to grace her memory. 
Her many virtues bear. 

When time shall moulder back to clay. 
And earth shall claim her share ; 

Your spirit's chariot, speed to heaven. 
To gfreet your mother there ! 



ON THE DEATH OF MY LITTLE FRIEND, 



In the sunm' June I had a little friend. 

Who brought me roses, beautiful and gay ; 

She seemed a lovely child, her voice so bland, 
That I regretted when she went a\yay. 

Mine was a brief acquaintance, it is true ; 

Yet such as I shall not ere long forget ; 
Oft she brought flowers, so fragrant, fresh and new 

Ere one set withered, would a new one get. 

I saw a train pass through the street to-day. 
Toward the cemetery their footsteps led ; — 

I asked who was it, who had passed away, 
Was told it was Ursula, who was dead ! 



146 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

I little thought when last I saw mv friend, 
That ere the summer roses ceased to bloom 

That such a life as hers would find an end, 
So soon be sleeping in the silent toml:). 

That one so young and promising should die, 
Is what we cannot understand nor tell ; 

God has a right, nor gives a reason why. 

But this we know, He doeth all things well. 



A CHILD'S EPITAPH. 



Gentle, the galless and innocent dove, 
Harmlessly lighting, then soaring above ; 
Upward ascending, until it is where 
It mav gambol at will, in the pure light and air. 

So was the soul of that innocent child, 
Pure as the dove, gentle, harmless and mild ; 
That spirit the wings of a seraph were given. 
Which have borne it away to ifs liome up in heaven. 



DEATH OF A SCHOLAR IN THE 
SUNDAY SCHOOL 



Now the story I tell is a sad one to-day, 

For a loved little classmate has just passed away ; 

And his voice that we heard, when we met here before. 

Is now silent in death, we shall hear it no more. 

Why should he thus be called, while so young and bright, 
Why should death choose that mark, while his heart was 

so light. 
Why not take some old person, wliose work in all done. 
And not call for that dear little brother and son.? 

I can tell you my friends, why lie's not here to-day^ 
For our Father in heaven has called him away ; 
He has taken His own as He had perfect right, 
To His home in the sky where His glory is light. 



Anstue?' to a Valentine. 147 

Oh I ye parents grieve not, he has passed on before, 
He is waiting for you on that bright, happy shore. 
Where the Saviour is gone, and the home of the blest, 
Where the weary and heavily laden find rest. 



ANSWER TO A VALENTINE. 



A Hebe, dear Rosa, I think vou must be. 
By heaven created on purpose for me ; 
Surpassing the diamond when set in fine gold. 
An index methinks are vour eves to vour soul. 

Your lips are as rubies, complexion I ween 
Is fair as the fairest, your age sweet sixteen. 
Of the daughters of Flora your name is the best, 
Outvieing in beautv and fragrance the rest. 

To sew, knit, and make bread, and butter and cheese, 

Are qualifications with which I am pleased ; 

Nor are you less lady, because you can do 

What would add to my comfort and happiness too. 

I care not for music, I have not an ear, 
K dinner vs^ell cooked, with a smile is best cheer ; 
With a voice that is melody, pleasant and mild, 
That is music for me, will my evenings beguile. 

I think you are worthy a husband the best. 

Your choice shows your wisdom and may you be blest ; 

I am son of a sovereign, my father is one 

Of a nation of sovereigns and I am his son. 

Since you are inclined a moustache to eschew, 
Choose a well shaven face and a heart that is true ; 
I will shave my face well, save good wishes for thee, 
If you save a pure heart and kisses for me. 



148 Mrs. Bar 7' oil's Poems. 

A VERSE IN AN ALBUM, 



You will ;^member me I think, 

Should I not ask. I trow, 
My faded locks and wrinkled face. 

Do you not think 'tis so ? 

Be it your aim to do the right. 

In goodness to excel ; 
Then God will bless you Lizzie dear 

And all with you be well. 



APPEAL TO THE CLERGY. 



I remember the time when the temperance cause. 
Wrought a great reformation, unaided by laws ; 
When the true Washingtonian felt for his friend. 
Raised him up from his fall, tried liis ways to amend. 

When the sword, moral suasion, was wielded so well, 
That its two edges cut in a place that would tell ; 
When the heart of the father might hope for his boy. 
And the child for his parent might shed tears of joy. 

I remember the time when my w^orthy friend Nott. 
Tried a conscience to wake, what a pinching he got ; 
But no picture of sorrow affected that heart. 
His own right would maintain, he would still sell his part. 

So to shun all such tights on the enemy's ground. 
The good clergy thought some other way must be found ; 
That some bulwark behind which to hide they must find, 
Now the law does their duty they'ye nothing to mind. 

But there still is great work that they think they must do. 
And much suffering near them they seek not to yiew ; 
For the cold, sick and hungry that live by their door. 
Are too near them to notice, they'ye seen theni before. 



Appeal to the Clergy. 149 

They've a poor sister Kansas she only has need. 
And her wonnds thcv alone do continue to bleed ; 
All the plasters a!ul lint they are gathering for her, 
Such as money or rifles or clothing prefer. 

Oh I ye men. \\\\o are called of the Lord as y^ say, 

For to watch oyer Zion, to preach and to pray ; 

Climb the tower, look around, what a breach you have 

made. 
If you don't mend the walls, soon her ruin is laid. 

Like the Hebrews of old when their walls did fall down, 
Every man joined the concert and mended his own ; 
What was near his own house did each man try to build, 
Soon the breach was repaired and their duty fulfilled. 

It has often been said and I know it is true. 
It is easier to preach than it is for to do ; 
And a shepherd but seldom submits to be told. 
That he don't do his duty by one of his fold. 

Where one's duty and feelings can blend without loss, 
There is naught to be dreaded, no weight to the cross ; 
But when there is a duty and feelings not there, 
Then the christian should labor and watch unto prayer. 

If a gift of persuasion 3^e clerg\'men have. 
Then do try its eflect, try the ruined to save ; 
Subjects morally healthy are not those to pick, 
Such need not a physician but they that are sick. 

I know it is more pleasant to call on a friend, 
Who will ne\'er oppose you in what you intend ; 
Yet if love for the soul of the sinner you bear, 
Oh, then help lift him out of the slough of despair. 

Should your friends all desert you and fortune too frown. 
And the Hydra temptation your pathway surround ; 
You mio^ht know, why, like Peter, some sink in the wave. 
You are stronger, then reach out your hand, help to save. 

Oh, then smile on them kindly and help them to feel. 
That you care for their welfare, your heart is not steel ; 
What a magic a smile has, none can know its power, 
Like one who may be friendless, degraded or poor. 



X50 Mrs. Bar voiles Poems. 

THE SUN AND MOON. 



When Mr. Sun and Mrs. Moon 

Agree to kiss each other ; 
We know some change will come ere long, 

If but a change of weather. 

And when the earth turns round to greet 

A sister or a brother ; 
The sun smiles vividly one hour, 

The moon more mild another. 

The ancients thought the gods were mad, 
When Sol the moon did mind her ; 

Because wdien he came where she was, 
He hid his face behind her. 

But science teaches better things. 

And nature so arranges. 
That when the moon her circuit fills. 

She goes through many changes. 

And we have nothing now^ to fear, 

From Sol or Luna either ; 
One rules the day, the other night. 

Or both do rule together. 



TO A FRIEND. 



As you progress through life's journey, 
Darkening clouds may sometime lower ; 

Look you on the silver lining, 
Let your mind above them soar. 

When your joys and hopes are brightest. 
Friendship's favors shower on thee, 

Love for love when thou requitest. 
Friendly thoughts resei*ve for me. 



The Canary. 151 

MY CANARY. 



M\- pretty canary, 
Come sing" to me merry. 

Sing one of your beautiful songs ; 
When perched by the window. 
You sing as you can do. 

Melodious, sweet, pure and strong. 

I know not vour equal. 
And ow^n as the sequel. 

Such songs can no other prolong ; 
Though shut up in cage too. 
You learn as the sage do. 

With patience to bear with the wrong. 

You teach me good lesson. 
Life's ills to look less on. 

Bv quietly yielding to fate ; 
Did you choose to shuffle. 
Your plumage would ruffle. 

You'd then be an object of hate. 

Some people when fretful. 
They seem quite forgetful. 

Of all that is lovely and kind ; 
They snarl up their faces, 
And hide all their graces, 

And cloud the bright index to mind. 

Forgetting the fearful, 
We'll learn to be cheerful, 

And sing and be happy as thee ; 
And your good example. 
We'll take as our sample. 

Make others as happy as we. 

r^o pretty canary. 
Come, sing to me merrv. 

The song of your own native isle. 
We'll join in the choir. 
Which all do admire. 

And all will be happy awhile. 



152 ]\Trs. jBarron's Poettis. 

DEDICATION FOR AN ALBUM. 



Go precious book thy mission to fulfil. 
Open thv folds by loved ones to be filled ; 
We dedicate thy service to the mind. 
Record mementos, wakenino- scenes besond, 



{r> 



And may dear Mar\ ne'er the anguish know, 
Of misplaced confidence while here below ; 
Pure as these spotless leaves may be their hearts, 
Who with their pens their various gifts impart. 

Gems of religion, wisdom, hope and grace, 
Of love and friendship or sweet memories trace : 
To those alone whose friendship is sincere. 
Would ^ve invite to bring their offerings here. 

Here on this altar place a healing balm 

To soothe the soul, the tempest tossed to calm ; 

To elevate the mind, ennobling too. 

And lead the soul to heaven when life is through. 



TO A FRIEND IN AN ALBUM. 



As you turn these leaves over in search of a name, 
W^hich you cherish as friend peradventure of fame ; 
Waking fond recollections, oasis may be» 
In the davs when vour life was both jovous and free. 

You will sometimes perhaps on some leaf drop a tear. 
That a loved one is gone whom vou cherished as dear ; 
As you progress still onward through life's checkered way 
Till vour mind shall grow sad and vom^ head shall be grav 

May some fond recollection still linger with thee, 
Of the hours vou have spent in mv home and \vith me : 
When my life will have ceased and mv bod}' find rest. 
And my spirit its long wished for home with the blest. 



The Celestial Tour 



153 



When voii journey along in the down hill of lite, 
Mav vou shun many ills with which nature is rife ; 
Never want for kind friends who are faithful and true, 
Who will never desert you and are worthy of you. 
When vour music shall cease and your labors of love. 
Alav vou join in the anthems of heaven above. 



MY CELESTIAL TOUR; OR A CONVEN- 
TION OF THE GODS. 



As on m\' bed. in the still nio'ht I la\-. 

Wishing in vain for the approval of dav ; 

Mv meditation in those hours it was 

Of God, His love. His greatness, goodnes.^, law^s. 

Hope was m\ helmet, htted to mv head ; 
Faith was m\ shield to ward olT fear and dread ; 
Light was the garment which I wished to wear. 
Manna and grace mv food ; all heavenly fare. 

My mind was restless, and I wished to scan 
The distant worlds, and so I filled my plan ; 
I w ished to see them all, then find the place 
Where matter is not, and where is no space. 

So in a tangent, oti' I started right, 

My speed was that of thought, more swift than light 

1 lightlv glided on, though without wings. 

And mo\ed from star to star, as some small things. 

When I had passed the stars and soared away. 
Till the earth seemed a dim star, seen at day ; 
The distance passed, a speck, a point of time. 
Scarce to be noted, though it seemed sulilime. 

On, on I sped and passing world on world. 
But heeding them, as passed, thev swiftlv hurled : 
Onlv intent on reaching the last star. 
That looked as last, because aw^av so far. 



1 54 Mrs. Barron\^ Poems. 

On, on I sped, still hoping in my mind, 
Tliat reaching that I soon the end shonld find ; 
Approaching that, new beauties were unfurled, 
Where solar systems, planets, perfect worlds 

Each had its canop}- bedecked with stars, 
Some near and brilliant, others small and far ; 
So I concluded I by that might learn, 
I'd wandered far enough, and might return. 

My journey to return seemed AerS far, 
So 1 resolved to rig me up a car ; 
My car ethereal needed wh.en all right. 
For rail to run on. but one rav of light. 

So I returned ; the speed of light mv race. 
Toward the earth, my cer.tral starting place. 
More at my leisure, as I n eared each star, 
I would review it well, so stopped mv car. 

I saw the gods assembling far and near. 
So I their consultation wished to hear ; 
Osiris being president pro tem.. 
I felt that I might safely Ist to them. 

Ceres declared that she supplied with food. 
All living creatures whet'ier bad or good ; 
Hyperion thought he too those creatures blest. 
By giving time and place for them to rest. 

Neptune declared his sers ice quite as great. 
Since he supplied the rai i earW and late ; 
And Ceres could not fill the stores with grain. 
If he had not supplied t'le earth witli rain. 

Iris then rose with her bewitching smile, 
And said, were it in order for a while. 
She too would tell what she herself had done ; 
Osiris said, in order, she went on. 

Neptune is sometimes late upon the stage, 
And then his part performs as in a rage ! 
Boreas too, helps excite the worst of fears, 
Women and men, they sometimes melt to tears. 



The Celestial Tour. 

Osiris once a mantle gave to me. 
No beauty can exceed, as all may see ; 
'When I appear thus clothed with smiling face, 
Neptune and Boreas disappear in haste. 

I quell tlie fears and cheer the liearts of men. 
Qtiiet restore, peace reigns triumphant then ; 
Nature rejoices then, at recent showers. 
And fragrance rises from the laughing flowers. 

Hermes ol:)taine(l the floor, and said that he 
Inspired mankind to actixe industry ; 
Within their brains he painted all designs. 
And gave an inspiration to the mind. 

To sketch all plans and execute the same. 

All tools, machinery of world wide fame ; 

If not for him, mankind would be no more 

Than brutes, with wisdom scarce their food to store. 

No palaces or cal)ins would they build. 
No stores with manufactories be filled ; 
Having no motive, aim, no action high. 
Live but to eat, and then decav and die. 

\'ulcan declared that lie had much to sax'. 
And to liis majesty they all gave way ; 
But all suggested that what he had done, 
vShould be but briefly stated, when begun. 

He said : I take all metals from the mine. 
Relieve them of their dross and then refine ; 
1 make the engine wliich tlie power contains, 
'i\) drive the mighty ship upon the main. 

Some steamers I sometimes the w^hole have made, 
'i'he frames for crystal palaces, all grades ; 
Railroads and railroad cars whicli on them run. 
Spindles with which all kinds ofvarn are spun. 

\\\(\ not the least of many things I've done. 

Is. make the wires on which men's thoughts can run 

I make the rods conveving lightning down, 

Till it is tame and liarmless under sr'ound. 



''SS 



156 3/rs. Barroji^s Poe?ns. 

I make the farmer's tools of every ofrade. 
The plough, the harrow, sickle, scythe and spade ; 
Hoes, rakes and axes, chains of every kind, 
Bars, forks, pickaxes, wheels with tires I bind. 

Axles and springs for carriages or carts, 
And many things I make the whole or part ; 
Without my help, man could not build, for nails 
And all mechanic arts without me fails. 



Great Eastern, eighth a mile in lenofth. 
Unequalled for its beauty, size and strength ; 
Hermes I own, inspired the mighty mind. 
Which formed and executed the desig-n. 

For churches too, I make the ponderous bell. 
Which peals for joy. or tolls the funeral knell ; 
Or chimes sweet music to the listening ear. 
Or tells the flight of time to those who hear. 

I make the bridges mighty waters span, 
Colossal statues seen in every land ; 
All implements where peaceful life is led, 
To finest needle using finest thread. 

When men with men in deadly strife engage. 
And ]Mars excites them to terrific rage ; 
Then I supply with weapons for the fight. 
To win a conquest or secure a flight. 

Jupiter's thunderbolts I used to make. 

But useless now. no time for them I take ; 

Nor will I take the time rehearsing more. 

So close my speech, and therefore yield the floor 

Mars now arose and claimed the floor by rig^ht. 
My duty is, to teach men ho\\' to fight ; 
If I, ^vhat I have done, throuofh time should tell, 
Pluto may be my judge if not done well. 

First of my pupils which I taught was Cain. 
'Twas he who bore the stamp of a brother slain : 
There's not a people live beneath the sun. 
But what my aid have asked and favor won. 



The Celestial T'oTir. 157 

Kings have been crovvmed and lost their worthless heads, 

Nations of note, all but their name is dead ; 

When hope and liberty were soaring high. 

I clipped their wings and bade them leave the sky. 

Since earth has been a habitable globe. 

And man was large enough to wear a robe ; 

When thev have thought they could not get their right. 

I've told them justice bade them go and fight. 

And sacred history tells, 'tw^as common law. 
At the year's end the nations went to war. 
The priests declared it was the will of Heaven. 
To utterlv destroy and* power was given. 

If anv king supposed himself aggrieved. 
Or of some cherished treasure was bereaved. 
He called his warriors all, bade them imbue 
Their hands in blood, so they his foes pursue. 

And it has been through time, as history tells 
Some nations rose to power while others fell ; 
Manv facts historical wise men have found, 
Bv demonstrations hidden under ground. 

The Prince of Peace on earth pronounced the word, 
' AVho used the sword should perish w^ith the sword." 
Though he proclaimed to men good w'ill and peace, 
And seemed as though mv power on earth would cease. 

Yet strange to say, professing to be good. 
One steeped in crime, e'en wdth his mother's blood. 
Raised for his ensign, leading on the strife. 
Emblem of peace and puritv of life. 

So it has been through ages dark and drear. 
Wars made for conquest, duty or from fear ; 
But none such curses on the nations draw. 
As for relisfion w^agfed. or civil way ! 

Then modest Venus asked for leave to speak. 
Not favors for herself she wished to seek ; 
She said that liberty had been abused. 
Her temple been profaned, sadly misused. 



158 Mrs. Barr oil's Poems. 

Noble the structure, partments thirty-four. 
With phui to add if needed many more ; 
Each tenant had his room and ri«-hts in all. 
When needing help his neighbors heard his call. 

But well enough could not be let alone, 
Each thought the other tried to get his bone ; 
Till some began to take his neighbor's side, 
And by and by they thought best to divide. 

So next to war of words, appealed to arms. 
Each to the other sought to do most harm I 
Liberty never had such cause for fears. 
Never for her were shed so many lears. 

Where is the wisdom to obtain a peace? 
When will the clashing of those weapons cease? 
Tell us, ye gods, ^vhen will the conflict end. 
When all shall cease to hate and all be friends? 

Juno, who long had been the queen of heaven. 
To whom much power and wisdom had been given, 
Looked on her daughter with complacent eye, 
And called her fairest of the earth and sky. 

Go thou to earth, men's better passions move. 
Contrast their hatred with tliy beauty, love ; 
Teach them to do the right, repair the w^rong. 
If reconstruct the temple, make it strong. 

The Great Omnipotent, who worlds has made. 
Can give thee wisdom and can give thee aid ; 
'Tis He alone can teach them what to do. 
And give them power to execute it too. 

Pluto declared that all the s^ods had done 
No act like Mars ; they made a host of fun ! 
He liked to see the dying in despair. 
And liear their groans, as wafted on the air ! 

Had he the power, there never should be peace, 
Mars should excite men's minds, war never cease ; 
But all the gods said Pluto had no right 
To make a speech ! So hissed him out of sight. 



Lines Written for a Friend to a Friend. 159 

Apollo said, I have not much to say, 

Mv duty is to note the time of day ; 

Each has rehearsed his merits as he would, 

None making comments whether bad or good. 

I have no labor done of which to speak. 
But with my influence, good of others seek ; 
As most have spoken, not much more to learn, 
I nov^' would motion that we do adjourn. 

His motion carried, starting on my car, 
I soon descried the earth as a dim star ; 
It was not long before I came so near, 
Objects defined distinctly did appear. 

Perfect in every part as a machine. 
The causes and eftects could now be seen ; 
On one division of that spacious earth, 
Where libertv had ruled from freedom's birth. 

I saw the cause of Venus' modest plea. 

In favor of the goddess liberty ; 

Christians no homage paid the prince of peace, 

But worshipped Mars ! all worship else had ceased ! 

No w^onder Pluto should assume a place. 
To speak before the goddesses of grace. 



LINES WRITTEN FOR A FRIEND 
TO A FRIEND. 



May yoiu* friends be well selected. 
Every confidant prove true ; 

Never be vour wants neglected. 
Virtue's pleasant path pursue. 

When among the gay and happy, 
Mav your heart no sadness know ; 

When your duty calls may that be 
What your feelings choose to do. 



i6o Mrs. ^arron^s Poems. 

Joys may blend sometimes with sorrow, 
Silver clouds o'ershadow thee ; 

When from passed scenes, you can borrow 
Pleasant thoughts, remember me. 



LOVE FOR THE CONSTITUTION 
AND UNION. 



The Constitution as it is, and Union as it was, 

Obedience to the laws of God and also human laws ; 

If love to God be but the helm that guides our actions 

through. 
Love to our fellow men assure will prompt our action too. 

I fear that manv think that zeal is love whate'er the cause, 

Where impulse leads, the^■ follow on, without regard to 
laws ; 

And anarchy will be the cloud, they follow through the 
<^lay, 

And passion be the hre bv night, that lights their danger- 
ous way. 



LONELY IN A CROWD. 



I've wandered in the silent grove and in the opening round. 
Where birds and insects silence broke with joy or mourn- 
ful sound ; 
Where stilly runs the shaded brook or cataract more loud. 
But never felt so lone as when I've been amongf the crowd. 



^1 



I've joined a gay and joyous band in cars upon the rail. 
And glided speedy o'er the lake where seemed not to fail ; 
The sun shone bright and mild the breeze, the music 

sweet yet loud. 
But there I felt myself alone amidst a happv crowd. 

At evening too I've met the gay, the rich, elite, the ton, 
Who talked of scenes in citv life and famed Mount Wash- 
ington ; 
They mingled in the giddy dance, enchanting music loud, 
-Here too I felt m3'self alone in that gay, joyous crowd. 



To a Mother on the Death of her Babe. 161 

Fve met with those who worship God, to join in j^rayer 

and praise. 
And tried to mingle heart and voice my thoughts to hea\en 

to raise ; 
Where christians meet to talk of lieaven and faith and love 

avowed. 
And even there I can't avoid feeling lonely in a crowd. 

At home alone, I love to think of friends who've gone 

before. 
To heaven whom I shall meet ere long, yes, meet to part 

no more ; 
Where we can all unite to sing the songs of Zion loud. 
And there shall never feel again so lonely in a crowd. 



TO A MOTHER ON THE DEATH OF 
HER BABE. 



On your bosom was a jewel, 

'Twas a gift from heaven above ; 

Though it was not gold or diamonds. 
It was purity and love. 

He who made it did not ask you 
For the right to take away ; 

Yet He took the precious jewel, 
And within the casket lay. 

It will soon be borne forever. 
From the view of mortal eyes ; 

But a seraph bright will bear it 
To a mansion in the skies. 

When your troubles all are ended, 
And from earth you pass away ; 

Then that precious, heavenly jewel, 
On your breast may rest for aye. 



i62 J^Irs. Barron's Pocvis. 

AN ACROSTIC. 



]Ma\ all vour paths with rtt)\vcrs be stroNvn 
As tVa^rant as the rose when blown ; 
Real kind friends be ever near. 
In every place your heart to cheer. 

And as you grow to womanhood. 
Each day grow wiser and more good : 
Let no ill feeling in your breast. 
In any way disturb your rest. 

Should cloud of sorrow ever rise. 
And sometimes vent itself in sighs, 
Be not desponding, but still hope 
Eternal hope will bear you up. 

There's no perfection here on earth. 
Hence 'tis a grace of heavenly birth ; 
Each virtue has one common dame. 
And prudence is that mother's name. 

Yes, patience, self-denial, love. 
Respect for age and youth reserve ; 
Social aiid kind to great and small, 
Do this and you'll be loved by all. 



A FRIEND OF MINE. 



In various paths of life you go. 
You may not find a friend or foe ; 
But most you meet, will only be, 
The same to others as to thee. 

You need not fear nor care to know. 
That you like others find it so : 
Nor judge that all are filled with guile. 
Thouoh" treason lurks beneath a smile. 



Night Thoughts to a Sick Sister. 163 

But if a friend you find in need. 
Such cherish as a costly meed ; 
And ne'er exchange so rare a gem. 
For such as grace a diadem. 

In everv' sphere where duty calls, 
Fear not to trust in God through all ; 
And mav His favor ever be 
A shield of faith and love to thee. 

When jovous scenes and gay your lot, 
On me a single thought w^aste not ; 
But when alone vour mind is free, 
Remember me, remember me. 



NIGHT THOUGHTS TO A SICK SISTER. 



Soon the Sa\iour is coming to bear thee away. 
To His mansion of bliss and perpetual day ; 
Where thy father and mother before thee have gone, 
And thy brother and sisters will vvelcome thee home. 

Or perhaps when your spirit shall pass from its clay, 
And is ready to soar to the regions of day ; 
That those loved ones like angels of glory will come, 
Be your guides from this earth up to heaven your home. 

There is room too for me in that home far away, 
When this house I now live in is gone to decay ; 
I'll rejoic«i in the change when my spirit is free, 
I will Ic.ive all of earth and will come unto thee. 

Then, oh, fear not to pass through the valley of gloom. 
Since the Saviour before thee was laid in the tomb ; 
_See H s hand is extended to lead you away. 
To His home of the blest to be happy for aye. 



164 J\/rs. Barron s l^ocuis. 

A BETTER, BRIGHTER DAY 



When I lay me down to sleep. 
Friends, for me you need not \\ eep ; 
Weep not that I pass away 
To a better, brighter day. 

Scenes beyond this life I see. 
Faith reveals them bright to me ; 
Faith that drives all doubts away. 
Of a better, brighter day. 

When my work on earth is done. 
And all labor 'neath the sun ; 
Unexhausting the sun's ravs. 
Where is better, brighter davs. 

There no clouds obscure the sun. 
There no sands of time will run ; 
Liofhts and shades will cease for ave. 
Where is better, brighter day. 

Your old garments cast them otl'. 
Sin and sorrow also doff; 
And prepare to soar away. 
Where is better, brighter day. 

Jesus paved the road for ye. 
Made it strait and smooth but free ; 
Then fear not but hope for aye. 
For a better, brighter day. 



FIGHT FOR THE UNION BOYS 



Fight for the Union bovs ; fight for the flag. 

Which waved so lovely o'er our blessed land ; 
Down with secession boys, down with the rag. 

Which spreads destruction w ith a traitor's hand. 



A Soldier's Epitaph. 165 

Fight for the Union, boys. ])ring back the boon, 
Wliicli traitor's hands have soug'ht to liear awav ; 

vSlirink not from duty boys, faint not too soon,. 
The ark shall be restored and treason stay. 

Fight for the Union, boys, much is at stake. 

Fear not to face the foe, the rebel foe ; 
The sig-ht of danger will your courage wake, 

To save your country, courage, courage, go. 

Fight for the Union, boys, it must not die. 

The hope of nations on its life depends ; 
It must and shall be saved, and God on high 

Will hear the ]Dra\crs whicli off for you ascend. 

Fight for the Union, boys, ye stout of heart. 

Who left your friends \'ou loved so well, so dear ; 

They did not bid you stay, when called to part. 
For danger to tlie Union seemed so near. 

Fight for the Union, boys, ye noble brave. 

VVHio loved your country better than yoiu" friends ; 
When o'er the whole the stars and stripes shall wave, 

God tfrant you safe return to home aeain. 



A SOLDIER'S EPITAPH. 



Far from his home by Mississippi's side. 
Serving his country there he bled and died ; 
One comfort to the widow's heart is given, 
'I'his grave his body holds, his spirit heaven, 

Far ofi' by Mississippi's side. 
For love of country bled and died ; 
Here sleeps his dust in (|uiet rest. 
His sold vet lives among the blest. 



i66 Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

THIS WORLD OF OURS. 



Lo ! what a lovely world is this, 
If sin were not, a world of bliss ; 
So complicated so sublime, 
'Tis worthy an infinite mind. 

The Great and Glorious Architect. 
Did not one single nail neglect ; 
To strengfthen or to beautify 
The structure or to please the eye. 

Yon canopy of azure hue, 
Wastes not with age, is always new ; 
Bespangled o'er With beauteous gems. 
Like diamonds in a diadem. 

Yon time-piece, g )lden orb of light 
Declares the time, all space does light ; 
It has no weight, \et never stops. 
Nor needs a key t ) wind it up. 

Though clouds lil.e curtains sometimes glide. 
Before its face its beauties hide ; 
Some gentle zeph\ rs pass them by, 
They leave no m:irk to oppress the eye. 

Not but the useful did provide. 
But beautiful on cxery side ; 
Its carpet every s'lade of green, 
And flowers of e\erv hue are seen. 

When nature docs require repose, 
A sable curtain o'er her throws ; 
A silvery time-piece then does shine. 
Less brilliant but not less divine. 

And when from cold the carpet fades. 
Turns brown and gray of every shade ; 
He spreads one o'er it purely white. 
Though not as warm it adds to light. 



Our Tefnple of Libertv in a Gale. 167 

And when the season has gone by, 
White grows oppressive to the eve ; 
That all dissolves and soon are seen 
All shades of Howers, embossed on sfrecn. 



OUR TEMPLE OF LIBERTY IN A GALE 



Who wonld not wish the stars and stripes 

Might never cease to wave. 
But who will bring the sacrifice 

That will the Union save? 

Each would the other's lamb be slain. 

And will not own the sin ; 
Each sees a Jonah in the ship 

And lavs the blame on him. 

But all should now unite as one. 

The Union try to save I 
God grant, it may still be the home 

Of the oppressed and brave. 

Say not the temple we have reared 

And loved to worship in ; 
Where sits the goddess full of grace, 

The people's hearts to win ! 

Oh I say not that it can be razed 

From its foundation strong ! 
To moulder on oppression's soil. 

The home of woe and wrong. 

Just as the last brave hero died. 

Who fousfht on Bunker Hill, 
Fire-eaters and fanatics haste 

This land with blood to fill ! 

Our blessed Union, let it not 

With anarchy be filled ; 
Let love the monster's hydra head 

Destro}^, if power to kill ! 



1 68 Mrs. Harrov^s Poems. 

ThouQ^h ditierent be the views, what brou<^ht 

This evil to the hind ; 
Let each forbear and warmly «^rasp 

His neighbor bv the hand. 

Then may we hope that peace ere lon^\ 

May to the land return ; 
That love mav as in former times, 

Yet, in each bosom liurn. 

That east and west and north and south. 

May yet fraternal be ; 
The sisterhood now thirtN-four, 

Live as one family. 



LOOK UP. 



Look up ! look up I at the beauteous sun, 
How brig'htlv he shines wdiile his course he runs ; 
Look up ! see the skv with its azure hue. 
No fuller can make such a perfect blue. 

Look up ! look up, at the stars at night. 
And see how they twinkle like eyes of light ; 
And look at the bright but milder moon. 
And think of the giver of such a boon. " 

Look up I let all see that your heart is glad. 
For others feel sadder if you are sad ; 
Look up, if you can, if your friends are nigh, 
Let them see your soul peeping through your eve. 

Look up to a friend though that friend be old. 
Whose features are wrinkled and hard and cold ; 
Know you ^yhat a magic your smile may have, 
To make that heart feel more like youth and braye? 

Look up on the world for its architect. 
Did not even one sinijle nail neg"lect, 
To strengthen its structure, or beautify 
Its many proportions to please the eye. 



/ am Gr Giving' O/d. 169 

Look u}) ! thoiii^h the weather seems (h'ear and cold. 
The clouds may be shinin<^ with rays of ^old : 
Though shadows be dark and remind of nij^ht. 
Yet some clouds may open for ravs of li<j^ht- 

Look up ! though you think that the friends vou know 
Are not quite as plenty or quite as true ; 
If some have deserted or turned away, 
You'll learn there are others as good as the v. 

Look up I oh my soul, to thy home above. 
For there is thy Father and God of love : 
The Saviour has promised a mansion there. 
Ere long I hope for to find me there. 



I AM GROWING OLD. 



I'm growing old the truth unfolds. 
I dread life's change, heat and cold ; 
Time's marks are printed on me now. 
I see his lines upon m\" brow. 

Mind weak from w eakness of the brain. 
My blood flows sluggish through \w\ \ eins. 
M}' head with age is sihered o'er, 
Mv sight less certain than l)efore. 

I have no child mv wav to cheer. 
To guide mv steps, dispel my fears ; 
Whom I have led in childhood's davs.. 
And whose devotion would repa\'. 

Who \vill take care of me when sick. 
And note my pulse too slow, too quick ; 
To cool m\' pillow, smooth mv bed. 
And bathe mv burning, aching head. 

Who will briuii" flowers when I am dead. 
And weave a wreath around m^ head ; 
Who shed aflection's tear for me. 
When I no more a tear shall see? 

Who'll plant an evergreen for me. 
An emblem of eternitv ; 



lyo J/rs. Jya/'ro/i's Poems. 

Whose branches gentle winds shall wave, 
In graceful motions o'er my graAe. 

Though lonely seem my path, and drear. 
I'm not alone for God is here ; 
As I am His and He is mine, 
Wluit more I want I'll not repine. 

What though for me no tear be shed. 
No rose shall blossom o'er mv head ; 
If l)ut my spirit soars above. 
And finds a home where God is love. 



NOT ALL ARE HERE. 



Not all are here with us to-dav. 

Who wei'e when last we met ; 
One \'oice we lieard in praver and praise. 

We shall not soon forget. 

How quietly she moved amid 

This joyous, happy band ; 
And tauofht us of tlie better way 

To find a better land. 

Her pleasant face we see no more, 

Nor hear her voice again ;, 
Rut this we know, what is our loss 

Will be to her a gain. 

Her friends are sad that she is gone. 
And other friends must bow ; 

Elmer and Frankie, darling boys, 
Tlieir seats are vacant now. 

In morn of life their toils are done. 

Before the heat of day ; 
Their guardian angels wdiispered come, 

Thev too have passed away. 

,So one by one the summons comes. 

Who next we cannot tell ; 
We'll watch and wait and trust in (jod. 

Who doclh all things well. 



Lines suggested by the Death of a Friend . \*]i 

LINES SUGGESTED BY THE DEATH 
OF A FRIEND. 



One morn a bright celestial car, 
Came from a distance long and far ; 
The car and steeds of glorv bright. 
The track on which thc\' came was light. 

The ano-els o-uided throu«-h the air, 
That car of glory bright and fair ; 
It came and stopping at the door, 
There waited for one spirit'more. 

Upon a bed a sick man lay. 

Though suffering much could sing and prav : 

One sonof of Zion more he sansr. 

His room with heavenly music rang. 

His faith in Jesus was so bright, 

That through death's valley all looked light ; 

vSo in the car he took his seat. 

The saints in glory soon to meet. 

Faith saw him speed his way to heaven. 
While friends lament earth's ties are riven ; 
They'll miss him now while left alone. 
A husband kind and father gone. 

They'll miss him where he labored oft. 
His pleasant smile, his manner soft ; 
And when he met a social band, 
His cordial grasping by the hand. 

We'll miss him on the camping ground. 
His voice, that once familiar sound. 
Where humble christians join in prayer. 
Or loud hosannas fill the air. 

They'll miss him by the dying bed, 
Where oft the suffering mind he led ; 
Taught them to trust in Jesus' love, 
And taught them faith in God above. 



172 Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

\\ e'll miss him at liis own church door, 
We've met him there in days of yore ; 
And there he met all with a smile. 
And kindly led them throu<2;-h the aisle. 

We'll miss him too on Tuesday nioht. 
His face all cheerful, happy, hright ; 
For none so willing- will be there. 
To talk or sing or lead in prayer. 

And on God's holy Sabbath (la\'. 
Wliere he was wont to talk and pra\- ; 
W^c'll miss him for he is not there. 
To speak of jiope or lead in prayer. 

The Sunday concert too he loved. 
And every moment did improve ; 
That each mig-ht learn the rioht to know 
And each might learn the right to do. 

Now he no more is here to lead. 
His christian precepts may we heed ; 
^Vs he the christian race has run. 
May we do good as he has done. 

VV^e all do know and feel the loss, 
Let each one help to bear the cross ; 
Close up the ranks and march along. 
Till we the victorv too have won. 



ELECTIONEERING IN 1840. 



Strange things do occur though of recent pretention, 
To delegate cabins and boats to convention ; 
Though astonishing men do possess minds so feeble. 
As to think thus to dupe the American people. 

Our forefathers would have expressed ejulation. 
If they had suspected in this generation, 
Our leaders are so void of sound elocution. 
As to sanction such effigies in such profusion. 



'J he Hxpcricncc of a )'oi(iig Doctor. ' 173 

Oh shall it he said that our star-spangled banner. 
Was ever dis<j^raced in so foolish a manner : 
Will the people be ever in such perturbation. 
As to think that such scenes are indeed oblectation. 

Can the man who'd l)e honored b}- this happy nation. 
Ever brook the idea of such an oblation ; 
JVJethinks he camiot be so verv weak minded. 
As to think that the mass of the ])eople are blinded. 

No dou1)t there are some so near like ninny-hannnerN. 
Who are fond of such scenes for they carry the l)anners ; 
Nor would I judge all who would follow such leaders, 
For some I know well woidd oppose all invaders. 

WHio can claim to your suflrages give him prelation. 
But not emplov means that w^ould shame heathen nations ; 
If a worthv evincible "^ive him encomium. 
But to cover his faults do not gi^e the world ojoium. 

Would that-scandal, the basest of all imperfections. 
Were never emploved in securing elections ; 
Let every one wear a true patriot's armor. 
And then we might fearlesslv unfiu'l the banner. 

Oh ve sons of dear freedom come fortli to the rescue, 
Nor \-ote for a man who is void ot true \ irtue ; 
If aught in our go\ernment needs emendation. 
Find the causes and the antidote eive circulation. 



THE EXPERIENCE OF A YOUNG DOCTOR 
A HUNDRED YEARS AGO ; 

OR THE DISEASE CALLED THE AIL OF THK WHlTi: UOKM:. 



A voung man who desired a profession to gain. 
And believed himself able the wish to obtain. 
Had decided to l)e a ph^■sician in truth. 
And set out for the boon when he wa*- l^ut a Noulli- 



174 JlJrs. JJarroiis Pocnis. 

\\\i\ he sUulicd at school while he was but a box , 
"Fill he liaiuUed the small branches easy as to\ ; 
As his mi ml iriew the strono-er the sciences too. 
He could master siiccesstully, seeing them through. 

A good mathematician and astronomer, 

A good chemist, geographer and philosopher ; 

And the languages needed he imderstood well. 

And in French, Greek and Latin most students excelled. 

Studied all of the Ologies. only the -^Hie," 
That he cared not to study, no taste for that he ; 
But was bound to be doctor and siu^geon of skill. 
And to make himself qualified worked with a will. 

Then he sought as a tutor the best of his day. 
He was one of great fame and could guide the right wa} ; 
So he learned to make bandages, ointments and sahes. 
Also plasters of all kinds, none made by the hahes. 

Learned to dress wounds and set bones and heal up a sore. 
Cut a leg or an arm otl', and many things more ; 
Tended medical lectures, dissected the dead, 
Felt the pulse and prescribed for the sick in the bed. 

Cared for the cliildren widi whoojiing cough, measles oi" 

worms. 
Scarlet feyer or chicken pox. each in their turn ; 
Passed his examination, successfidly too. 
And recei\'ed his diploma, for practice ^\ oultl do. 

In those days when the roads had but one narrow track. 
The physician \yith saddle-bags rode the horse's back : 
That young man for the better to ride in the night, 
He had bought liim a horse and the color \yas white. 

Now he prized his Jiorse highh as \oimg men will do. 
He not only had bought him but paid for him too ; 
And his clothes yyere all new^ which his mother had made. 
From wool sheared from merino sheep, finest of grade. 

Spun and woyen at home, fulled and d\ ed at the mill. 
Cut and made by the tailor vyho had the best skill ; 
They all fitted him nicel}', coat, yest, pants, whole suit. 
With a thick coat for winter and called a surtout. 



Tlic Kxperiencc of a Yoioii^- Doctor. 17:^ 

lie had l)<)ii<4lU up his niCHhcines. none need refuse. 
One to sa\ "cannot take it" wcjuld l)e of no use; 
lie had jahip and ipecac. rhul)arb and squills. 
Castor oil, salts and senna, and white calomel. 

Cinconia and aloes, and cjuassia. l)lue pills. 
And some specific ready for all kinds of ills ; 
And all surs^ical instrinnents wliich he mi<j-ht need. 
With the cant-hook to pull teetli and lancet to bleed. 

His new saddle-bags read} . he packed them all in. 
And a nice reputation expected to win \ 
Witli sew saddle and bridle, and horseman's new whip. 
He felt ready and wilh'nj^- to start on a trip. 

Now his tutor tlioui^'h skilful was hard hearted thouj^'h 
Said one lesson to learn Act which he did not know ; 
What the secret was worth figures could not compute. 
And if he should inform him he woidd not dispute. 

Oh do tell me the secret, I pra\ , doct<M- do? 
I have alwa) s confided mv welfare with you ; 
It is not in the books, to no college belongs, 
Should I give vou it gratis. I'd do mvself wn^ig. 

It is hard for me, doctor, the \oung man replied, 
I have spent all my means mv outfit to provide ; 
Please do give me the secret I humbly implore, 
I don't see as I can give \o\\ an\ thing more. 

Well unless I receive for the knowledge more paN . 
My own secret I'll keep till eternity's da\' ; 
Your white horse I will take if you choose it be so. 
And \owx father \yill Inu' \-ou another I know. 

Though the young man pn^tested. it all was in \ain. 
And he gave him the horse so the knowledge might gain ; 
And the doctor looked wise and most solemnly said. 
When you're called to the sick and shall find them in bed. 

You must look at tlieir tongue, count their pulses w ith 

great care. 
Look most solemnly at them with w ild anxious stare ; 
Then rise slowly wdien leavin<i- the side of their bed. 
Let the friend>» know your fears by the shake of vour head, 



176 Mrs. Ba 



rroii s I ocnis. 



Make tlicin tlviiik tliat tlie>' arc \cr\- claii<^cr()iisl\ sick, 
And to save thcni the means must be used \ei\ (juick ; 
And of course thev will soon he relie\ed of their pain. 
And the loss of your horse you will see is your o-ain. 

So the youni^- man went out into practice alone, 
Amon<j^ strangers who proved to be friends of his own ; 
l^iit he did not obev what his tutor last said. 
E\en though he might first find his patient in bed. 

If he saw there no danger the\ knew by his cheer, 
The\' would soon get about, there was nothing to fear ; 
If one did not recover no blame ever cast, 
On the doctor who did all he could to the last. 

In those days but one doctor was needed in town. 

So he gained a good living and won a renown ; 

And the poor did him homage and called him so good. 

For he gave them their sick bills and sometimes their food 

So as time rolled along man} \ ears intervened, 
And his old skilful tutor he never had seen ; 
But one day on a journey he called at an inn, 
When much to his surprise the old doctor came in. 

Well he knew the old doctor who did not know him. 
He was not as robust, growing old rather thin ; 
So he sought out the landlady to her did say, 
Mv dear madam, that old man will soon pass away. 

I mean ma'am, that disease on his vitals has set. 
But with prompt skilful treatment may even li\ e yet ; 
And are you. sir, a doctor, and know what to d(j? 
Yes, that is mv profession, but soon I must go. 

P'or my patients and famih look for me soon, 
By to-morrow at least I should be there at noon ; 
We all loved him, he's been with us so many years. 
By his kindness and skill he has sa\ed many tears. 

And the whole town would mourn for him sadlv I know 
For he still seems as useful as long time ago ; 
Oh, please do. doctor, sta\ and attend to his case, 
I will tell him yoli guessed his disease by his faee* 



The Experience of a Yo7{ng jDocto7\ 177 

And she did so, the old man felt bad at his heart. 

For the fright the news gave him it made the blood start ; 

And his ])ulse beat too raj^idlv that he was sure. 

And the suHerintr he felt he could not Ion"" endure. 

He said please doctor don't leave, attend to me now. 
And whate\'er you wish I am willing to do ; 
It woidd be a great damage for me to stay here. 
I ha\e patients who'rc anxious to see me I fear. 

You of course could not make up the damage to me. 
If you should, an exorbitant price it would be ; 
And besides me lives no other doctor near there, 
And mv patients may smTer for want of my care. 

I will not mind the price if \'ou only will stay. 

And whatever that is I am willing to pay ; 

Money is no account, as my life is at stake. 

Now please stop with me doctor, do sta\' for my sake. 

vSo he gave him some ipecac that made sick, 

'Twas to empty his stomach and that was done (juick ; 

Then he gave liim somp senna made into a tea, 

\\ ith some salts made him sick as he wished him to be. 

The effect of the medicine having passed by. 
They had prostrated him so he thought he should die. 
But the young doctor's countenance changed to cheer. 
Said the danger was over and no cause to fear. 

And he told him be quiet he'd v/atch by his side, 
And for all of his needs would be sure to provide ; 
He would give him some nourishment and bathe his head. 
He might sleep all he could, he would sit by his hed. 

vSo he rested so quietl\ through the long night, 

He aw^oke in the morning refreshed and quite bright ; 

And the next on the program a tonic was good. 

And that made him feel better and then some light food. 

And next followed a stimulus that did provide. 

And as soon as was proper he took him to ride ; 

And he grew convalescent so rapidly too. 

That the young doctor told him he thou""ht he w(ndd do. 



178 Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

To be left with his friends, and <^ot read}' to j^o. 
You must think that his bill was quite large, it was so ; 
And the old doctor paid it and said it was rig-ht, 
I^ut before he got read\- to bid him good-night 

vSaid, please tell me the name of the sickness I've had. 
And how you have relie\'ed me, when I was so ])ad ; 
Well, said he, it is seldom I've met with one sick. 
Who wasbroughtdown so low and I've raised him so quick. 

Sir, when I was a voung man, tlie disease was new. 
And I learned all its symptoms and treatment from vou ; 
And the knowledge to me was attended with loss, 
And I ga\"e to the name of the ail ''The White Horse." 

Now my true name dear sir, ere I leave I will tell. 
And I think vou'll remember yoin^ student quite well ; 
Oh, I see, said the old man, you served me quite right. 
With a shake of the hand bade each other sfood nio-ht. 



^^ 



The disease that prevailed then, in these better da\s 
Has developed itself in a great many ways, 
Though the svmptoms may vary and different name. 
It is said that the treatmetit is nearh' the same. 



A STORM. 



As Eolus has power, 
And a mind and a skill, 

So he makes the big drifts 
In the vallev and hill. 

Hear the wind ! how it shrieks I 
Hear it bellow and blow ! 

Spite of all opposition. 
It piles up the snow. 

And he lets all the earth 

Know his power in its rage. 

For he pinches alike 

Youth and ^rav-headecl acfc. 



The Doctor s Overcoat. 

VoLi who sit in your homes. 

And are cozy and warm. 
Have a thought for the poor 

Who are out in the storm. 

'Tis a fearful north-east 
Wind, as fierce as a dart. 

It may cripple one's limbs. 
Or it may pierce the heart. 

Not so pleasant may l)e, 
For to take such within. 

l^ut be sure of the fact. 
It will not be a sin. 



79 



THE DOCTOR'S OVERCOAT, 



vSupplv N'oursclf an (nercoat. 
vSuch as will well protect your throat. 
vStuffed well with ample sleeves and folds. 
To shield you from the wet and cold. 

A pocket in the breast have placed. 
To hold your antidotal case 
And instruments which you may need. 
To probe, to plaster or to bleed. 

A little pocket you may have. 

To hold what monev you may sa\'e ; 

Economize for that is rij^'ht, 

And always keep therein a mite. 

Another, and as needful cjuite, 
Should ha\ e a place, but out of sig'ht ; 
Made broad and deep enouji;h, beware I 
And pocket all ^our insults there. 



i8o Mrs. Bai'von^s Poems. 

FORMATION OF THE EARTH 



When the Great Universal Creator of all. 

Spake into existence this stupendous ball ; 

First it floated in atoms in space unknown, 

Ere the sun, moon and stars in full splendor had sh(^nc. 

The fixed laws of nature He then did provide, 
Laws by which she lias ever will ever abide ; 
Gravitation, attraction are some of the code, 
Cohesion and others b\' which she abode. 

Propelled to the centre each atom was hurled. 
Each particle aided in forming this world ; 
The denser the matter the swifter it went, 
The less dense, soon rapidly after were sent. 

Gravitation the author of nature to please. 

Fixed the axis round which it revolves with such ease ; 

Electricity too bv exerting its power 

Turned it round with great ease in a ver\' few hours. 

Though its surface was covered with water so deep. 
That it seemed as if destined forever to sleep ; 
So tremendous the power caused by internal tires. 
That it sent forth dry land and the waters retired. 

Transparent atmosphere having been formed. 

While the sun, moon and stars did the heavens adorn ; 

Vegetation was called for, it sprung forth to light. 

And the sun ruled the da\' while the moon ruled the night. 

When enough was matured to sustain man for food. 
He, being created, all was pronounced good ; 
The quadruped creation were docile and kind. 
And a lovely companion to solace liis mind. 

Neither shame had they knovyn nor confusion of face. 
Nor the thought had occurred that they might be disgraced, 
He was lord of the earth and for them it was blest. 
Nor could tliey need more tlian they now did possess. 



The Format ioM of the Earth. iSi 

Their eyes could extend over nature's domain. 
She had never known winter nor ever grown wane ; 
Her fruit-trees were blooming exceedingly fair. 
Exhaling sweet odors made balmy the air. 

Tliey aspired after more than this earth could aHbi'd. 
And attained to a blessed communion with God ; 
Having never known sin nor its consequent fear. 
Their climax of happiness perfected there. 

i)Ut alas I by and by, they aspired after more, 
They wished to be like imto him they adored ; 
The fruit he'd forbidden them ever to eat, 
Thev partook and attempted the sin to secrete. 

But He who made the laws by which nature al^ode, 

Framed also for man a most beautiful code ; 

And had he been contented by them to abide, 

He had ne'er from the presence of God sought to hide. 

To God's favor he found he had forfeited claim. 
And his first state of innocence ne'er could regain ; 
He must earn now his bread by the sweat of his brow. 
For the earth must not yield it spontaneously now. 

How changed was the scene now, his prospects look drear. 
He had never ere this known the meaning of fear ; 
He was told he must die and return unto dust, 
And would cease from the earth as he was not at first.. 

He sat with his countenance vapid and pale, 

The salubrious air he could scarcely inhale ; 

When a voice from on high told him yet there was hope, 

His countenance brightened, again he looked up. 

His head who succeeded to dupe and decoy, 
I will cause that the seed of the woman destroy ; 
Do you and your children as I sliall command. 
And a blessiup; you ever shall find at mv hand. 



'to 



When the earth became peopled extensively too. 
There was scarcely a man that was willing to do 
As his maker required, so God gave him His word. 
That unless they reformed He'd destroy with a tiood. 



1 82 ]\Trs. Barron^ s Poems. 

His servant delivered his message to all, 
But the people believed not nor heeded the call ; 
They sinned unrepenting with such a high hand. 
That the Lord then repented lie ever made man. 

The time was approaching, had even nov/ come. 
Mankind must all suiTer for sins thev had done ; 
The decree had gone forth from the powers on high, 
That all but his ser\ ant and familv die. 

A Hood was employed as a deputy cause. 
By -the God of all justice and author of laws ; 
To effect his design ^vith such consequence dire. 
His principal agent was internal fire. 

The great western hemisphere ere this did sleep. 
Being ever engulfed in the waterv deep ; 
But the power which at first caused drv land to appear. 
Prepared to exhiliit a continent here. 

The time had arrived for the heat to explode. 
And send forth to light its great incumbent load ; 
And the decomposition of water by fire, 
Formed the \apors and clouds for to execute ire. 

The aqueous clouds gathered blackness intense, 
Nor mankind could prepare themselv^es any defence ; 
They had sinned with impunity, now w^ere thev doomed. 
To behold the approach of a waterv tomb. 

The once peaceful ocean, so recently calm. 
Irascible now, it increased the alarm ; 
The rain in great torrents obeyed the command, 
And the now l^oundless ocean swept over the land. 

The work of destruction now being complete. 
The waters it seems soon began to retreat ; 
The wind was the agent Jehovah required 
To pass o\er the earth and the waters retired. 

Once the sound of the beast and the music of birds. 
As thev hailed the glad morning the echo was heard ; 
The children too played on the green and the lawn. 
With their bright cherub faces the landscape adorned. 



Winter. 183 

All nature once clad with her carpet of green, 
And her blossoms perpetually blooming were seen ; 
Wliere were dwellings for men who were joyful and gay, 
With their life and their beauty had all passed aw\ay. 

And alas what a change all was vapid and gloom. 
Children shared wdth their fathers a w^atery tomb ; 
All nature was silent, no ^■oice now w^as heard, 
Not the sound of a man or a beast or of birds. 

But alone on the top of the mountain did rest, 
Secure from the tempest one family blest ; 
The head was the servant of God, the Most High. 
To His throne He delighted in prayer to draw nigh. 

vSo God condescended a covenant to make. 
And promised the earth He would bless for his sake ; 
As a pledge that His presence to him He revealed. 
That a bow in the clouds He ^vould set as a seal. 

He declared He would no more destroy with a flood, 
But should man again merit the weight of his rod ; 
The agent bv which He should execute ire. 
The earth he should l^urn and its contents with fire. 

Who can ever behold that infallible seal. 
Which is set in the clouds and not oftimes feel 
That his promise is sure and whatever He wills, 
In wisdom and power He will ever fulfil. 



WINTER. 



Cold winter comes with monarch mien. 
To rule the nation o'er again ; 
He governs with a tyrant's hand, 
And nature bow^s at his command. 

To conquer is his only aim. 

To wield oppression's wand he claims ; 

Fair nature having no defence. 

To ward her foe makes no pretence. 



184 Mrs. Ba7'ron^s Poems. 

Passively dormant for a time, 
She bows submissive to his shrine ; 
And that his conquest be complete. 
He lays her prostrate at his feet. 

Her stately sons more stubborn seem. 

In summer clad in gorgeous green : 

Refusing at his shrine to bow, 

Thev raise their heads, their might to show 

But tliem he smites with frosts sesere. 
And robs them of the clothes the^' wear ; 
Their pride thev cannot vet subdue. 
Like patriots to their countrv true. 

The crvstal streams and rippling rills. 
With icy chains he binds at will ; 
Majestic mountains have to wear 
Such garments as his hands prepare. 

But spring will come to their relief, 
And fill the tvrant's heart with grief; 
Will drive him from his wide domain. 
Assume the right and power to reign. 

She governs with a milder hand. 

To gain affection, better plan ; 

Where winter binds she'll melt the chains. 

And nature's approbation gain. 

Earth with her sons will all rejoice, 
To hear the music of her voice ; 
Where robbed of all their foliage too. 
He'll clothe them all with 2"reen anew. 



WHAT PRUDENCE THE MOTHER OF THE 
VIRTUES WITH HER CHILDREN DID. 



The morning star now shone with glimmering light, 
Darkness w'as giving place to morning bright ; 
The sky-lark had begun to tune his Ivre, 
And call on all of life to see. admire ! 



What Prudence^ Mother of the Virt/(cs did. 185 

The sun sent up his ^^ohlcn raws of li<^ht 

To warn the moon, 'twas time to l)i(l j^cxKl-ni^^lit ; 

And notify the an<^els that his rays 

AJake a safe c<^n(luct, as in former (hiys. 

Their chariots too whicli GckI t(^ them has gi\en. 
To bear them safe to earth and back to heaven ; 
The goddess Prudence lieeded first the call. 
She bein<£ mother of the virtues all. 

Calling her children all aroiuid she said 
Much was U) do — from them she wanted aid ; 
Mind well vour mother, heed what I may say. 
Learn like ol^edier.t children to obey. 

The Great Omnipotent, All wise of Heaven, 
To all His w^orks unchanging laws has gi^•en ; 
From disobeying which, proceeds the ill 
I3v which the whole of all the earth is filled. 

Earth like a held of one extended view, 
Has man}' needs ; enough for all to d(^. 
Yet more there is if nourished well with care. 
Fruits ripening for eternity will bear. 

Go children, cultixate with care the g(jod. 

Nor root the tares and weeds with hand too rude ; 

I'll oversee the work from dav to day, 

No ill will come if you my plans obev. 

Industry said he was her oldest child. 
In Eden's bowers old Adam's hours l)eguiled ; 
The first thing that he ever learned to do. 
Was, tilling land ; and 'twas good business to(j. 

As garments did not in the garden grow. 
The first mechanic work was how to sew ; 
And the first work to which he turned his hand. 
Was make an apron, thus o])ev command. 

His mother smiled and said my trusty son. 
Without your aid no great things can be done ; 
So you may supervise, and may God grant 
You root out every parasitic plant* 



1 86 Airs. Barroii's Poems. 

Some things arc difficult to cultivate. 
Some grow too fast and some grow up too late ; 
Lav out the work that each may do his part. 
While I inspire all will with hand and heart. 

Pride is a plant that grows too rank and high, 
And is quite useless but to please the eye ; 
Humility must dig around its roots, 
Lop off its crest and all superfluous shoots. 

When well proportioned may assume a name. 
Among the virtues dignity may claim ; 
Then by its side Humility might live, 
And like two cozy friends in union thrive. 

Envv and Malice, Jealousy and Hate, 
Live near together and much mischief make ; 
And well with thorns and thistles will compare 
Which lay the back of Innocence quite bare. 

W^ith scandal like the nettle and the brier, 
They lash the back until it seems on fire ; 
Not quite content with this, the poisonous dart 
They sometimes hurl, which pierces to the heart. 

Often inflicting quite a fatal wound. 

And if it heals at all, it is not sound ; 

Thou Love alone canst make those monsters yield 

And thou and Charitv must bear the shield. 

Hold up a mirror, show them each their face. 
For sneers and pouts are never fruits of grace ; 
Soothe thou the pain which innocence may feel, 
Applv the oil of pity that may heal. 

A plaster made of deeds from motives pure, 
Laid rio^htlv on the back mav cause a cure ; 
W^ith grace change ye their visages though vue. 
By showing them the magic of a smile. 

\\\ yonder muddy pond there floats a barque. 
W^here winds are adverse, atmosphere is dark, 
Without a rudder and a man sits there. 
His countenance bespeaks his name, Despair- 



\\7iaf Prudcuce^ Mother of the Virtues did. 187 

Go Hope, and gently to that iiian draw near. 
Dispel the darkness, quiet every tear. 
With thv majestic power draw him ashore. 
There fix thine anchor, bid him doubt no ukmc. 

In yonder dismal alle\ . damp and cold. 
Poverty lives, his garments worn and old ; 
His dwelling too. is going to decay. 
And scanty food he finds from day to day. 

Hope sometimes points him to a better day. 
He starts, and thinks that he may find the way ; 
But disappointment meets him on the road 
\w(\ drives him back again to his abode. 

Come Perseverance, do thou go with Hope. 
And not allow him on the road to stop ; 
Though disappointment sometimes may appear. 
Call Couraoe to his aid he need not fear. 

13eneyolence must also lend him aid. 
Who always will in tiu'n be well repaid ; 
Like casting bread upon the river Nile. 
It will a hundred fold repay awhile. 

Go Industry, iuid teach him how to thrive. 
By imitating thee in plenty live ; 
And may he learn of wisdom while he ma\ . 
To lay up something for a rainy day. 

Then pinching Want he need no longer dread. 
Like Sovereign as he is. hold up his head. 
And teach his brethren it is wise and true. 
To follow Perseverance, Hope and you. 

Extravagance and Fashion live near by. 
Each notes the other, with complacent eye ; 
They seem to think Economy looks mean. 
Though decently she always dress and clean. 



'Jr>' 



Than Wisdom they atlect to be more wise. 
And others of inv children thev despise ; 
These precepts I would have them hear and learn, 
To never waste nor wear but what they earn. 



i88 3/rs. Barron s Pooiis. 

Learn new ideas to improve the mind. 
Care more for healthy heads than crinohne ; 
Dress with a view to well secure good health, 
For that and wisdom are a mine of wealth. 

If earth keeps turning- 'round, I think it may. 
And keeps on measuring time with night and da\ ; 
jMv children all their mother's counsels heed, 
And root out every day some noxious weed. 

Then heavenly graces will liave room to grow. 
And what a paridise tliis earth will show ; 
Cherubs and seraphs would delight to live 
Where I, with all my family, can thrive. 



MY LITTLE KITTY, 



Once I had a little kitty. 

And my kitty caught a mouse ; 

And she looked so shy and pretty. 
As she chased it round the house. 

When she played till she got tired. 

Then she bit him in the head ; 
Then slie went to work and ate him. 

Just as soon as he was dead. 

By and by my little kitty, 

She grew up to be a cat ; 
Then she thought it was a pity. 

If she coidd not catch a rat. 

So one time she heard a gnawing. 

And a rolling things about ; 
Then she curled up in a corner, 

Watching till the rat came out. 

Then the cat slie pounced upon him. 

And she bit him in the back ; 
And you'd think if 30U had heard him, 

That he suffered from the rack. 



The Chanticleer. 189 

But the cat she did not pity, 

Neither heeded she his wail ; 
But she broke his bones then ate liiin. 

All except the skin and tail. 

Then she learned to watch the corn 1)in, 

AikI the barley and the rye ; 
When she saw a rat she caught it. 

Or a mouse, she was so sly. 

In the morning time of milking. 

Want she cunning do you think r 
She would come and pur about me. 

•Which did mean she wanted drink. 



THE CHANTICLEER. 



The cock that owns the dung-hill. 

Early in the morn, 
He calls the hens around liim. 

To help him eat the corn. 

The hen that has an ^^^ laid, 

Cackles out her song ; 
The cock he helps her sing too, 

His notes both loud and strong. 

He calls the young ones around him, 
And teaches them to crow ; 

And struts as any dandy can. 
When walking to and fro. 

Assumes the sole purogative 
Of his own right to rule ; 

Chastises those who disobey. 
Like demagogues at school. 



190 Mrs. Bai'ron's Poems. 

IT IS FIRST RATE TO BE A YANKEE. 



That we are Yankees is first rate. 
And natives of the Granite State ; 
We love this phice as well we niav. 
So near the banks of Nashua. 

I5y and by comes vacation. 

Then we'll have more recreation. 

This term of school we've all enjoyed, 

Our time it has been w^ell employed ; 

We've learned to read and learned to spell. 

And aimed to say our lessons well. 
By and by comes vacation, 
Then we'll have more recreation. 

We know our parents will be g-lad. 
For we can count and we can add ; 
We multiply and w^e divide. 
Much to the credit of oin* "uide. 

By and by comes vacation. 

Then we'll have more recreation. 

We hope to shun all naught}- ways, 
And learn. some new thing- every day ; 
The hill of science we will climb. 
As fiist as we have strength of mind. 
By and by comes vacation. 
Then we'll have more recreation. 



FOR LITTLE NELLIE F. EAYRS. 



I have a dear grandpa and grandma. 
And papa and mamma love me ; 

They call me their dear little Nellie, 
And I must be pfood as can be. 



te' 



They tell me that God made the sun shine, 
Which makes all the world look so bright 

And made all the stars and tlie moon too, 
That twinkle and shine in the night. 



My Tenf/i Birthday. 191 

WELCOME TO LITTLE CHILDREN. 



Lads and lasses ]:)rifj^ht and fair. 

Welcome to mv home to-night ; 
All that's pleasant may you share. 

Pass by all that is not right. 

May it prove a sunny spot. 

An oasis may it be ; 
When my spirit home is not, 

I am gone and blest are ye. 

As you progress on through life, 
Be the star of hope your guide ; 

What you seek with good be rife, 
What you need may God provide. 

Set your motive's standard high, 
iVct and aim to reach that goal ; 

God will bless you by and by, 
Your reward be good untold. 

Every day and every hour. 

Make resolves we will do right ; 

Spite of all opposing power. 
Persevere with all your might. 



MY TENTH BIRTHDAY 



This is my anniversary, 
I'm ten years old to-da\ ; 

Now I must learn to do some good. 
As well as learn to play. 

It does not seem as possible, 
I'm half grown to a man ; 

1 surely ought to do some good, 
God helping me, I can. 



192 Mrs. Ban-on^s Poe???s. 

I'll try to shun temptation's wiles. 
And walk in wisdom's ways ; 

Learn some idea new, to add 
To what I know each da\ . 

I'll walk the way of truth and rioht. 
My parents mind with care ; 

And hear with [)atience ever\ cross. 
That duty tells me hear. 

Should an<^ry passions ever rise, 

I'll tr\ to drive them ofl'; 
vSmooth down the scowl upon m\' hrow 

Speak pleasantl}- and soft. 

If I but make myself to be 

As lovely as I can ; 
Then all will treat me with respect, 
• When I shall be a man. 



MY GRAND NEPHEW. 



I think of darling- Harry, 

As roaming through the woods ; 

Reading from nature's precious l)()ok. 
And learnino- to be sjfood. 

There he can hear the birds that sing. 

And see the squirrels run ; 
And try to catch the butterflies. 

And have a lot of fun. 

And whe)i among the verdant trees. 

He sits beneafh the shade ; 
He thinks who made the trees and flowers, 

And birtls and squirrels made. 

Who made the little tinv l)rooks. 

That tlirough tlie meadows run : 
Where little flshes glide along. 

And sparkle in the sun. 



A Song for a Little Boy. 193 

Who made the Httle himbs and calves. 

That gambol on the green ; 
The horses working in the field. 

And colts that he has seen. 

Who made the cows to furnish milk. 

So good to drink and eat ; 
To make the butter and the cheese. 

When fattened such nice mea.t. 

Who made the grain and grass to grow. 

And every thing I see ; 
I know 'tis God who made them all. 

And all mv friends and me. 

I'll learn to do what good I can. 

While I am well and voung ; 
And when I die I'll go to heaven. 

And He will sav well done. 



A SONG FOR A LITTLE BOY. 



I must be a good bo}- and mv parents obev, 
For they feed me and clothe me every dav ; 
When I'm sick they take care of and pitv me too. 
So I will try to mind them as I ought to do. 

My father is so kind that he bought me a sled, 

It is painted so nice, a part of it is red ; 

And wheh there is snow you may look out if you will. 

And see how good mv sled is to slide down the hill. 

Mv mother she says bv and bv it will be spring. 
The grass it will be green and the birds they will sing ; 
And the roses will bloom and look so fresh and ga\ , 
Oh. what a good time it will h^ for bovs to phi}'. 

And if I love my mother and do what is rigiit. 
When it shall be summer she will make me a kite ; 
And all the little boys the\- will want to be there, 
'!\) see how mv kite will flv so high in the air. 



194 



Airs. Barro7i's Poems. 
A SONG FOR THE SCHOOL. 



Cold winter now is coming-, but 

We care not for the cold ; 
W^e've often heard it said it had 

Been always so of old. 

We'll lip in the morning- and 
Prepare (nu'selves for school ; 

We'll aim to be in season, for 
That is the teacher's rnle. 

When time for school is over and 

No work at home to do. 
Then skip and slide upon the ice, 

And pla\- at snt)\v])all tocj. 

And when it please our parents, tiiev 

Will carr}- us to ride ; 
The bells will jingle merrily. 

And how the sleigli will glide. 

When winter shall he over, then 
Will come the lo\ely spring ; 

We al\A'ays bid her welcome, 
'Tis then the birds do sing. 

And when the spring-like winter shall 

Be gone, with lovely Ma}' 
Comes summer with her roses, for 

She too must haxe her day. 

WHien autumn comes to take her place. 

No roses though she brings ; 
vShe brings all kinds of ripened fruit. 

Her praises we will sing. 

Each season does dechire tliat He 

Who doeth all things well. 
Knows better what we need ourselves, 

Than we ourselves could tell. 



My Little Grand Niece. 195 

VACATION IS COMING. 



I)f) voii know vacation's coming-? 

She is coming so they say ; 
But I ahnost doul:)t the storv. 

Slie is so long on tlie way. 

But I know that slie is coming. 

For the teacher told me so ; 
And wliatext-r she does tell me. 

It is alwa\s true I know. 

Do you ask why I believe it? 

I will tell the reason why ; 
'Tis because I think her truthful. 

And would never tell a lie. 

Now you know it would be awful, 
If she says what is not true ; 

VV^hen she tells us we must be good. 
And be truthful me and you. 

We w^ill ever be as honest. 
As the best of boys can be ; 

And will no more tell a lie than 

(reorge who hacked the cherry tree. 



MY LITTLE GRANDNIECE. 



Blessed little baby. 

Good as one can be, 
More than all beside thee. 

Though art dear to me. 

Like the midday sunbeam 
Opening all the flowers ; 

Thou dost fill with fragrance 
All my passing hours. 



196 Mrs. Barron'' s Poems, 

Dropping in my pathway 
Balmy, soothing showers ; 

Tn thine eyes I read thy 
Soul inspiring powders. 

May the blessed Saviour 
Paint upon thy brow 

Innocence and beauty . 
As I see it now. 

So that in the future. 

While your parents li\c, 

All the aid and comfort 
Needed, you will oive. 

Though some thorns may flourish 

Yet alono^ the way 
You shall be the rose, dear. 

We shall pluck each day. 



LITTLE ADOPTED DAUGHTER. 



When I think of darling blanche. 

Sitting in her parents' lap. 
Or they lying dowai beside her. 

When she went to take a nap. 

What a blessed little child 

She is, to be so fayored now ; 
May God keep her in His mercy. 

And sucli fayors always show. 

How she loved to kiss her papa, 

Lavished kisses by the score ; 
And her mamma, in her turn. 

Came in for quite as many more. 

May she, like the morning roses, 

Spread sweet fragrance through their bowers. 
Like a glorious shining sunbeam, 

Light tlieir pathway every hour. 



All Acrostic. 
AN ACROSTIC 



197 



Oh, do not iiiunnur that vour God 
Thus on you lays His chastening- rod ; 

I would tliat you subinissi\ e bow. 
Since (xod has called your child to g-o. 

When he lias lived no evil done. 
Has not its consequence known ; 

II is to shun life's evil wa^', 

T\vAi he from earth is called awa\ . 

Expect not perfect iiappiness. 
Earth ne'er will Hll your cu}) with lihss ; 
Almig-lity God has perfect right 
Your hopes of earthly good to blight. 

Remeiu1)er those who love the Lord 
Shall find in heaven a sure reward. 



AN ACROSTIC, 



(^h must you part with hiiu Nour onlv child. 
Nor hear liim prattle more or see him smile? 
vSure, he was mild as simimer's mildest bree/e 
Lo\ ely as \ernal lilossoms on the trees. 

Oh, will liis little arms no more embrace. 
Will his sweet life ne'er press again ^-our face, 
vShall he no more his father run to greet. 
Expect caresses, learn some little feat. 

Ah, no, his sprighth acts on earth are done, 
Yey, from this world his spirit now has fiow^n, 
Rests in the bosom of his God in light. 
So does tlie Judge of all earth do right. 



19S Afj's. Bar roll's Poetiis. 

TO A LITTLE FRIEND. 



\\ licii you gr()\^ up to be a man, 
May you be good, as good you can ; 
And always with the cud in view, 
To all around be kind and true. 

To bear with patience tr}- to learn, 
Nor ever let vour an^er burn. 
Lest, when you would not, vou may d«) 
What would not be so well for you. 

When I within my narrow bed. 
Shall la}' at last my weary head ; 
Then may you sometime think of me. 
When you no more my face may see. 

You need not shed for me a tear. 
Because I was, but am not here. 
But if some evergreen you have. 
Please lay them on mv silent grave. 



CHRISTMAS DAY MEDITATIONS 



They were sweet those love caresses, 
Which your fondness spent on me ; 

It was blessed to be with you, 

Though the time so brief must be. 

"^^es, God willed it so and rightl}'. 
That my life with you begun ; 

And He willed that I should lea\e you. 
When my life though short was done. 

On the morning when I left you. 
By the dark and grief bound shore ; 

It was then w\\ angel sisters 
Game and met me at the door^ 



Hope for the Penitent. 199 

The^ were clad in robes ol health . 

Wings of angels, glorions light ; 
.\nd thev hore me to those mansions. 

fesus promised pin"e and hriglit. 

Weep no more my loving parents. 

Though the wound is deep, se\ere ; 
Take the cup Nour father gives you. 

Shed no more the bitter tear. 

Parents when \<)ur life is ended, 

Vou on earth need stay no more ; 
\Ve will come as^guardian angels. 

Guide you to this happy shore. 



HOPE FOR THE PENITENT, 



Do you feel you are a sinner, 
In God's fayor have no place ; 

You are floating without anchor. 
And have j^assed the day of grace. 

It is well that \ ou should feel so, 
lliat your sorrows should be deep ; 

If they lead you to repentance. 
Cause you many tears to weep. 

Though the billows rise before you. 

Sins like mountains in your sight ; 
Look, like Peter, see the Saviour, 

Leave vour own ship though at night, 

Look no more down in the waters. 

Look abo\'e ! the Saviour's there ! 
See His hand to you extended. 

Know for you He has a care. 

Then will faith keep you from sinking. 

Take His. hand, He'll hold you fast; 
Hope in Him will be your anchor, 

Love will take you home at last* 



200 ^/rs. Barron's PocfJis. 

PICTURES OF A CROSS EMBELLJSliED 
WITH FLOWERS. 



Yew have the grace to lift the cross. 
Nor feel it is a grief or loss. 

But dread its weight to bear. 
If some were near might give us aid. 
We think we would not be afraid. 

We want some friend to share. 

If in our walk the cross mav la\ , 
The path is walled each side the wa\ , 

And we are left alone. 
Faith tells us God will "-ive us strength. 
We make the efibrt and at length, 

How^ soon the work is done. 

To do with grace what must lie done, 
To bear with smiles what must be borne, 

Will beautify the cross ; 
As roses twined with tiny flo\Vers. 
More fragrant after falling showers. 

Refreshed they show no loss. 

The rose is trained so to adorn 
The cross, it is not left forlorn. 

For still its crest we see ; 
When duty calls and feelings go, 
We see no cross, 'tis even so, 

But fair as bloom in^- tree. 



FAITH, HOPE AND CHARITY 



We have all ""ot to climb 

To the summit of life ; 

Some would reach to that height w ith a Ijound, 

But the look and the wish 



Mo7'ning' Praver. 301 

Are both equally vain, 

One must rise b}' degrees from the ground. 

The bold easfle ne'er p-ains 

1\) the uppermost crag, 

With but one mighty effort or spring; 
But he soars by degrees, 
I'rom his perch on tlie trees. 
Always beating the air with his wings. 

If one born to be o-reat 

Fill the high chair of state. 

Or perchance lie ma}' sit on a throne ; 

Be his mind not well traiued 

When the summit is gained, 
It were better he never was l:)oru. 
If perfection we seek. 
First be liumblc and meek. 

Strive to cultivate grace from above. 
Faith must l^e the first roiuid. 
We shoidd reach from tlie ground, 
Hope the next and the top round is love. 



MORNING PRAYER. 



Draw near ni}- God I pray, 
And guide me through this day ; 
Direct my mind aright 
From this bright morn till night. 

Let my thoughts ascend to heaven. 
Thankfully for mercies sfiven : 
Oh, give me grace to bear. 
My every pain and care. 

Help me to bear my load. 
Through life's rough ston\' road ; 
Shoe my feet with truth that can 
On the rock of ages stand. 



202 Mrs. Barron^s Poems. 

Please let me never trip, 
And may I never slip ; 
And when upon my bed 
I rest mv wearv head. 

Holy spirits hover near ; 
Then I have no need to fear. 
And when that l^v and b}- 
Vvn summoned to the sk3^ 

And holv ang-els come 

To bear my spirit home ; 

Then my soul may plimie its wings. 

Heavenly anthems learn to sing. 



FAITH. 



Jesus will meet me at death's gate, 

And with His lamp of love 
Will ouide me throuoh the oloomv way 

Up to His home above. 

This shattered home in which I live. 
My soul's old house of clay. 

These pillars moulder back to earth, 
And crumbling to deca}'. 

Why should I care, what that to me? 

My soul will not be here. 
Tf Jesus take me bv the hand. 

I feel His presence near. 

I'll soar away to realms of light, 

Nor in the billowy waves 
Will need to dip my weary soid, 

I'll need not stop to lave. 

For He will cleanse my soul from stain. 

The promise He has given. 
He is the way, my hope and life. 

By which I'll enter heaven. 



Jl Friend Has Left. 20^ 

A FRIEND HAS LEFT. 



One more husbaiul, hning- tatlier. 
In his home is now no more ; 

For the Sa\ iour whom lie trusted, 
Called him from this mortal shore. 

As I talked to him of Jesus. 

Of His promises of peace. 
Of the home for His disciples, 

When this mortal life shall cease. 

On tile bosom of ni>- Sa\iour. 

Soon said he I'll be at rest, 
All my hope is in His merit. 

In His love shall I be blest. 

Oh how precious is His promise. 
Where He's ^one there niav 1 o(). 

T • • • .0 

i.ive m mansions of the blessed-. 
When I'xe done with all below. 

If on earth I never see \ou. 

And your welcome presence g-reet ; 
^'et I hope we'll meet in heaven. 

Where true kindred spirits meet. 

^'et f calletl there on the niorn^w. 

He seemed sinkino- verv last ; 
1 suspected that, the last time. 

And it proved to be tlie last. 

You still wait, I said, still ling-er. 
On this side of Jordan's shore ; 

^'es, said he. I'm only waiting- 
For the 1)oat to bear me o'er. 

1\) his wife and hning daughters. 

And his sisters all so dear ; 
Many words he spoke of comfort. 

Not to grieve his end so near. 



204 



jVfrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

And he talked of his dear loved ones. 
Little blessings God has given ; 

Loves too pure for earth's existence. 
Called away and gone to heaven. 

He must leave dear friends behind him. 

(j() to meet those gone before ; 
When those dear ones left should join them, 

Thev ^vold(l meet to part no more. 

What a sermon in his last \vords. 

To a young man ^vhich was given ; 
Be good, do right, he but whispered. 

And we'll surely meet in Heaven. 

They will miss iiim in the workshop. 

Miss him in the house of praver. 
Tn the Sundav school as teacher, 

Li the class as leader there. 

As a neighbor he was kindlv. 
Many did his friendship share ; 

How much more at home they'll miss him. 
When thev see his vacant chair. 

Yet the thought when life is ended. 

And its sorrows all gone bv, 
Thev niay hope again to meet him. 

In his home bevond the skv. 



MEMORL\L ON THE DEATH OF A BOY 
IN THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 



Now the storv I tell is a sad one to-dav. 
For a loved little classmate has just passed away ; 
And his voice that we heard when we met here before. 
Is now silent in death, we shall hear it no more. 



A/y First Waking TJwiights This Sahhath Mnr)i. 205 

Why should he. thus be called while so youno- and so 

briofht. 
Why should death choose that mark while his heart was 

so light ; 
Wh}' not take some old person whose work is all done. 
And not call for that dear little brother and son ? 

I can tell you my friends why he's not here to-day, 
For our Father in Hea\'en has called him away ; 
He has taken His own, as He had perfect right, 
To His home in the sky vyhere His glory is light. 

Oh, ye parents mourn not, he has passed on before. 
He is waiting for you on that briglit happy shore ; 
Where the Saviour is gone and the home of the blest. 
Where the ^veary and heayily laden find rest. 



MY FIRST WAKING THOUGHTS 
THIS SABBATH- MORN. 



I praise Thy name Father in Heaven. 
For many mercies Thou hast given ; 
Thou kept me safely through the night. 
Opened mine eyes to see the light. 

My sleeping hours Thou too hast blest. 
My w^eary limbs hast given rest ; 
Such soothing pillows for my head. 
And warm and comfortable bed. 

I wake in tolerable health. 

Worth more to me than Croesus' wealth ; 

Give me a heart to follow Thee, 

In all that's good direct Thou me. 

Oh, give me wisdom from on high, 
Wisdom that ouideth to the sky ; 
Wisdom to walk the narrow way, 
So T orrow better day by dav. 



2o6 Mrs. Bai'rofi's Poems. 

As I have lived for many years, 
Ha^'e shed from sorrov\ many tears, 
Have often suffered too from pain. 
And vet I live* I still remain. 

Oh, may 1 know the reason why 
Long time ago I did not die ; 
Is there some duty unfulfilled. 
That I am spared to do Thy will. 

Open mine eyes that 1 may see 
What else Thou dost require of me ; 
What duty yet remains undone. 
That I must do l:)eneath the sun } 



THE FIRST CHRISTMAS DAY AND THE 
FIRST CHRISTMAS PRESENT. 



A babe was born in Bethlehem, 

A city of the east ; 
The angels spread the welcome news. 

And called Him Prince of Peace. 

The shepherds heard the hea\'enly song. 

It made their souls rejoice ; 
They joined in praising God on high. 

With all their hearts and voice. 

The wise men went to see the child, 

They journeyed from afar ; 
The light to guide them on their way. 

Was God's bright shining star. 

That was the first great christmas day, 

Ordained of God in heaven ; 
The presents which the wise men brought. 

First Christmas presents given. 

Those gifts were not of toys and clothes. 

As children sometimes have ; 
But gold and frankincense and myrrh, 

Were what those wise men gave. 



My Dream in the Night. 20^ 

May we all have kind, thankful hearts. 

For friends and favors given ; 
And may the Star of Bethlehem 

Direct our souls to heaven. 



AN ACROSTIC, 



Now^ you are young, your hopes are fair and bright. 
Each cheerful thoujj'ht is well and ijood and ris"ht ; 
Life without cheer is like a desert waste, 
Leaving no path we ever would retrace. 

If dutv calls where feelinofs do not lead. 
E'er trv to lift the cross vou'll find the meed ; 
Mav God protect and guide vou everv day, 
True friends be vours to bless vou on vour way. 

Hope be your anchor though the waves roll high. 
On God who gives the ocean bounds, reh . 
Make it vour aim in goodness to excel. 
Prudence will guide vou in vour duties well. 

Soon life will end, though seeming for the dav 
On wings of faith your spirit speeds its wav. 
Nor doubts obscure the light that shines for ave. 



When my days on earth are ended, 
And mv face no more you see ; 

When you turn these pages over. 
As vom* friend remember me. 



MY DREAM IN THE NIGHT. 



As I sat me down at twilight. 

Friends w^ere near me by the wav ; 

I was thinking of mv duties. 

Had I done right through the day. 



2o8 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

In my silent meditations, 

That auspicious hour was mine ; 

And I asked, ha^■e I been thankful 
For such favors as I find. 

As 1 sat, two babes came to me. 

They had just begun to walk ; 
And I found to my surprise, that 

They had also learned to talk. 

One approached me on mv left side. 

Laid her soft hand on my knee ; 
And she looked up in my face 

And said, dear auntie, pray for me. 

Then the other at my right side. 
Looked up trustingly to me ; 

As I took her soft hand, she too 
Said, dear auntie, pra\' for me. 

So I took them up together, 
Folded in my fond embrace ; 

And those darling little seraphs 
Laid their cheeks against my face. 

Oh, happy I was feeling. 

For such purity so near ; 
And I tried to raise my heart, and 

Feel that God was also here. 

So 1 raised my thoughts to heaven. 
Spoke so those two babes might hear 

And I asked for God to bless them. 
Just as Jesus did when here. 

Would He give them every blessing- 
Day by day, as they might need ; 

Guide their inexperienced feet, in 
Wisdom's ways, as wisdom leads. 

Give them food and needed comforts. 
Friends to care for them and guide ; 

And indeed all needed favors. 
Every day would He provide. 



Death of a Toimg Danghtcr. 209 

And thosv little darlings listened. 
And each word they heard nie say ; 

They so triistingh' and loving 

vSeemed, as learning how to pray. 

And I felt that God in heaven, would 

Make them baby angels there ; 
They would no more need to pray, but 

Perfect, heavenly praises share. 

I could wish such happy moments 
Might be lasting through my days ; 

But alas ! my dream has vanished. 
And that vision gone for aye. 

I could'wish that in the twilight 
Of my life, such views might be ; 

Visions like those darling seraphs. 
Angels pure might come to nxe. 

Led by Jesus up to heaven. 

Up to Him who heard our prayer ; 

Ever thankful for His mercies. 
Sing immortal praises there. 



DEATH OF A YOUNG DAUGHTER 



Mourn not for me dear mother. 

Nay, moiu"n no more for me ; 
For Jesus met me at the gate. 

And set my spirit free. 

To you the pass looked gloomy. 
And seemed so dark the wav ; 

'Twas but a doubtful passage, 
That led to endless day. 

The pangs of death were over, 

A new life I assumed ; 
And all that suffered , all that sinned. 

Are sleeping in the tomb. 



210 Airs. Sar fan's Poems. 

'Tis but a short time, mother. 

The time at most is near ; 
^'our work on earth is not all done. 

^ly brothers are not here. 

Then for their sakes belie\e in God. 

Who doeth all things well ; 
And for oin^ father try to live. 

Of mourning break the spell. 

Ask God and He will help you. 
To stay that flood of tears ; 

Were sorrow known in heaven. 
'Twould give me sorrow here. 

Then cheer up dearest mother. 

The past may well suffice ; 
God needs not you should waste your life. 

Asks no such sacrifice. 

Look up towards heaven then mother. 

God wills that you should hope ; 
All clouds have silver linings. 

If only vou look up. 

Beyond all clouds the sun shines. 

They cannot make it less ; 
Though faith is weak, God's mercy 

Omnipotent to bless. 

Then trust Him for His greatness. 

Trust Him that He is good ; 
And try to feel that all is right. 

You mav and more vou should. 



TO A YOUNG FRIEND. 

BY REqUEST. 



You asked for fruitage of my brain. 
The roots of this old tree remain ; 
Scarce strong enough to bear the fruit, 
So it mature with taste to suit* 



Cupid's Darts. 2\\ 

1 can't expect it lon^ to grow. 
On this exhausted soil beIo\N- ; 
Branches grow mossy, leaves grow sear. 
Scarce worth the care to keep it here. 

Has lived for seventy years and more. 
Those growing near have gone before ; 
You start in life with prospects fair. 
I would few crosses be vour share. 

Though but a stranger you to me. 
I cherish kind regard for thee ; 
Faith, hope and charity be given. 
To aid you on your way to Heaven. 



CUPID'S DARTS. 



So Cupid sprung his silken string, 
And spec! two golden tlarts ; 

Strange but such darts inflict no stings. 
Though piercing deep two hearts. 

While shines the sihery honeymoon. 

The wounds will not be healed ; 
We hope she will not wane too soon. 

But long her influence wield. 

As at your happy nuptial vows, 
Bright flowers and suns as light ; 

And sorrow never shades your brows. 
But ever shine as bright. 

As onward through life's path you tread, 
Dark shadows sometimes find. 

Fear not but look above your head, 
All clouds are silver lined. 

A gentle wind will by and bv 

W^aft all dark clouds away ; 
And you may see the clear, bright sky, 

And golden orb of dayi 



212 ]\Irs, BarroH\^ Poems. 

IJupe be the anchor of your souls. 
And buoy your spirits up ; 

And love above all have control, 
Then joy w^ill fill your cu]:). 

When your last milestone has been set. 

^'our journey near its ^\\(\^ 
You \yill not feel the sad reg-ret, 

Tis not, but niisrht ha\'e been. 



THE COLD WIND. 



.'Eolus has got the good will 

To furnish the cold for December ; 

.\nd Boreas runnino- the mill. 

Works \yell for his master, remember. 

The earth soon will call for a spread. 

To keep her from freezing too deeph ; 
Neptune can supply from his bed, 

vSufficient to make it completely. 

Materials only he finds. 

And Boreas, good manufacture: , 
Is always so ready and kind. 

He shows himself her benefactor. 

One scarcely would call it (juite kind. 
To coyer her feet, trunk and head so ; 

But only you think, and you'll find 

That she is but sleeping, not dead — no. 

vSome things that we think hard to bear, 
Wait patiently till they are ended ; 

One portion but falls to one's share, 
And mercy with trouble is blended. 

Sol soon shall be coming this way. 

And wake up the Earth as his way is ; 
And Spring will come forth looking gay, 

The loyliest daughter they say is. 



Eigh teen Hh n dred Eigh ty- Two . 213. 

She wisely performeth her work, 

Though young" sows and phmls in good season ; 
Shows Summer that she is no shirk. 

Who imitates her for good reason. 

And Ceres will finish all up, 
* The work of the seasons completely ; 
Will gather the well ripened crop. 
And o-arner all safely and neatlv. 



EIGHTEEN HUNDRED EIGHTY-TWO. 



This eighteen hundred eighty-two 
Will link the old year with the nevy ; 
Adds one more, comes and passed by me. 
And all now nimibering seyenty-three.. 

November twenty-fourth I find. 
The same as eighteen hundred nine ; 
Long time ago I thought that I 
Should leave my home for one on high. 

But I was spared for reasons known. 
To Him who had the power alone. 
To take me or let me live. 
And which he chose the boon to give. 

I looked around to see the cause 
Of much that happens, find the laws 
Of God when disobeyed, will bringr 
To mind and bod\ botli a stinsf. 

Much of my life I have been blest. 
Kind friends I had now gone to rest ; 
May father's family all gone, 
My husband too left me alone. 

No friends I call my own are here, 
But He, the widow's God, is near ; 
He gives me friends I dearly prize. 
Kind friends they are I realize. 



214 Mrs. BarroTz's Poems. 

My home to me a sunny spot, 
Kind neighbors ever43een my lot ; 
As I now I live on borrowed time. 
To pay that debt will soon be mine. 

The soul that owns this house of clay, 
Will leave it tenantless for aye ; 
When in earth's bosom it is laid, 
The debt of nature will be paid. 

Thank God that faith directs the wav, 
Where is a home of endless day ; 
Where pain and suffering will not come. 
To drive me from a happy home. 

A home where glorv is the light, 
Where sun sets not and is no night. 
One needing no repair from me. 
Nor will through all eternity. 



MY OLD HOUSE IS GOING TO DECAY. 



This house in which I've lived so long 

Is surely going to decay ; 
The rafters settling in the roof. 

The shingles many blown away. 

The nails that held the clapboards firm 

Through frost and rust, now cease to hold ; 

The boards decayed or sprung apart 
Admit the wind and piercing cold. 

The fuel that has warmed the house. 

Decayed and damp from snow and rain. 

No blaze emits, it does not w^arm 
The rooms at all, to try is vain. 

*Tis hard to give the old house up. 
Where I have lived so many years ; 

In vain the skilful try to prop. 
The effort fails to calm mv fears. 



A Brain Fruit Tree. 2i 

No other than the owner can 

Cause such repan"s as make it last ; 
And he refuses, that is phun. 

To raze the structure needs small blast. 

Faith tells me when this house is done, 

No room in comfort I can live ; 
The owner sure will furnish one, 

He has a l)etter house to give. 

Will need no fitting up bv me. 

Nor will it need m>' anxious care ; 
The owner will inv wants supply. 

And keep my house in good repair. 

And what is more He asks no rent, 

His funds no less and always free ; 
Nor will the lease e'er terminate. 

Time ending in eternity. 

So fare you well to this old house, 

Your place where once you stood, the lot : 

And nothing more will then be known. 
All else be o'one and be forarot. 



A BRAIN FRUIT TREE. 



I'll shake this ancient tree, see can I find 
Somj fruit worth storing in \our youthful mind ; 
The tree grows mossy, scarcely can expect 
Its fruit quite sound, so meriting respect. 

Some green leaves still remain say passers bv. 
And fruit not yet has fallen, notes the eye ; 
Near to this tree grows one but twelve years old. 
Beautiful branches bright green lea\'es unfold. 

Draws nourishment a plenty, some to spare. 
So that this old tree can receive a share ; 
And other young trees spreading branches green. 
Waving by gentle zephyrs can be seen. 



2l6 ]\ff's. Barro)i''s Poems. 

All help the old tree to retain its place. 
Supply the verdure which the landscape grace. 
For seven decades this tree has borne the blast. 
Of course but few more seasons can it last. 

May He who is the Heavenly Gardener true. 
When quite decayed invigorate it new ; 
Transplant it to His heavenly soil above. 
Where glorious suns, refreshed with showers of love. 

For more than seven decades as vou may see. 
Because my years now niunber seventv-three ; 
May hope be strong, your cup be filled with jov. 
And faith and charitv without allov. 



CHRISTMAS. 



Years eighteen hundred eighty-two, 

vSince the first Christmas song was new ; 

And the first choir and concert given 

Was learned, and brought direct from Heaven. 



•ir>' 



Such music never since was heard. 
Such harmony in every word ; 
It touched a chord to every heart. 
Good news it gave, bright hopes impart. 

The sentiment was in that song. 
For which the good had waited long ; 
The shepherds watching flocks by night. 
Were joyful at the song and sight. 

They spread the news to all around. 
The wise men sought, a babe was found. 
The promise now to be fulfilled. 
Was a sure token of God's will. 

To Him the mission would be given, 
To guide mankind the wav to Heaven ; 
And faithfully did He fulfil 
The mission of the Father's will. 



Christtiias. 

He taught repentance for all sin. 
Who'd disobeyed new life begin ; 
To do the right where'er one be. 
And hope a better life to see. 

The poor in spirit would be blest. 
In Heaven will find a home of rest ; 
The mourning heart will surel\- find 
Who trust in God a tranquil mind. 

The meek and quiet need not roam. 
Can find on earth a peaceful home ; 
Those who will seek for righteousness. 
In soul and body will be blest. 

Who with their alms assist the poor. 
Will not be lacking in their store ; 
Who have their hearts supplied with grace 
May hope with joy to see God's face. 

Who counsel peace without the rod 
Be called the children true of God ; 
When doing right with patience learn 
To bear with persecution stern. 

If accusation false be given. 
For Jesus sake more hope of Heaven ; 
If grace has filled the soul with light, 
Fro\e to the world that vou are risfht. 

Hide not your talent in the ground. 
Lest when most need cannot be found ; 
In dealing with your fellows do 
As vou would wish thev miofht to xou. 

Even the good of others seek. 
Sorrowful, soothe, strengthen the weak ; 
Su])port the trembling, courage give. 
As by your help they still mav live. 

You need not fear for vour reward. 
Your pay is sure, Paymaster Lord ; 
Money may not be paid though due. 
But a bright home prepared for vou. 



21 



2i8 Mrs. BarroiCs Poems. 

Blessings will follow when you leave, 
And loving hearts for vou will grieve ; 
And when all clouds have passed aw^av. 
Hope point vou to a better da v. 



ONLY ONE FIBRE. 



A single fibre turns the thread away. 

Though well directed to the needle's eve ; 

And wastes the time when one w^ould like to sew, 

The work obstructed as coinpletelv so. 

As helpless is the hand to finish olf 

The garment, as though wings had borne aloft ; 

I tried to thread my needle in the night, 

I had my glasses on and good lamp light. 

Again and yet again the same did try, 

But could not make the thread pass through the eve 

Nearly made up mv mind the feat to quit. 

But something wiiispered no, not vet, not vet. 

Another effort did at last succeed. 

Finished my garment, thus I won the meed ; 

Manv sad failures of some effort made, 

I've w^itnessed in m\- life through seven decades. 

\ can remember one life just l)egun, 
In mv home since count seventv years and one ; 
One who first saw the light that winter day. 
Live to good age, his work done passed aw'ay. 

All have some crosses lying in their road 
Which must be lifted, though a heavv load ; 
And if another effort make, one try, 
God sure will gfive strenofth, then look on hig-h. 

Within Pandora's box but hope remained. 
Though all else left it still its place retained ; 
And were it not for that we might dispair. 
And fear all efforts vanish in thin air. 



To My Nephew. 219 

But hope holds fast the ladder's bottom round, 
Above tliat faith and charit} are found ; 
So climb the ladder to its topmost height, 
For there above the clouds is seen the light. 

Though dark the clouds, yet they are silver lined, 
So tjiose can still find hope who left, behind ; 
And when their duties here on earth are throuo-h, 
Thev can have strength to climb the ladder too. 

When trouble comes, grasp, hold it in your arms. 
When hugged to deatii will cease to do more harm ; 
But if vou hold and \iew it at arm's lengfth. 
Will still be stron'j- and rob vou of vour strenp-th. 



TO MY NEPHEWS 



Dear nephew, do \ou think I better 
Attempt to write to you a letter .^^ 
And show you how my thoughts do run, 
And tell you what my hands have done. 

♦ 
For seven decades within my breast. 
Life's wheel has turned nor stopped to rest ; 
Nor has it stopped to be repaired. 
To do its duty still prepared. 

Life's river yet supplies the power. 
Though low the tide, yet every hour 
Renewed by little brooks and rills. 
Its duty and its work fulfils. 

The fountain which the rills supply. 
Will cease to furnish by and by. 
The vital fluid it will need 
To move the wheel with wonted speed. 

I would not mourn it thus must do. 
For who supplies all wills it too ; 
And when the wdieel \yithin my breast. 
Shall cease, then I shall be at rest. 



220 Mrs. Ba7'ron^s Poems. 

A MEMENTO. 



A small memento having planned 
And executed with my hand ; 
If any merit you can see. 
Accept the token please from me. 

Inside your hat crown, that should be 
The place to put, so vou can see ; 
When you would don it siu'e and true, 
You'll know the hat belongs to vou. 



THE ROSE WITHOUT A THORN. 



Tell me, where is the rose 
That is void of a thorn ? 

I will go where it grows, 
On the first pleasant morn. 

Such a rose, if I find, 
I will pluck it for thee ; 

Ere the Sun wilt the leaves. 
And the}" drop from the tree. 

Tell me, where is the heart 
That no sorrow has known? 

Can the secret impart. 
So to make it my own. 

Who can guide in the path. 
That is safe to my feet ; 

When my journey shall end, 
Will my joy make complete. 

Where a mother now lives. 
Who was never bereft .' 

Of some darling she loved. 
Though some others be left. 



The Christian Graces. 221 

Tell me, where I can find 

Any, far oft' or near ; 
Never shed for the wayward 

Or dead, bitter tears. 

Show me where all around, 

One no sorrow has known ; 
I will prove I have found 

The philosopher's stone. 

That in future no grief 

And no sorrow be felt ; 
And the altar unsought. 

Where the penitent knelt. 

As in Eden, will be 

All, without any fear ; 
Talk with God and will know 

That the Father will hear. 



THE CHRISTIAN GRACES 



Lord lead me in the way of right. 
Thy grace shine on mv patli as light ; 
And give me strength to lift each day, 
All crosses that obstruct my way. 

* 

I would possess a Peter's zeal, 
Sword of the Spirit I would wield ; 
Could I unsheath so that I might 
Destroy the wrong and aid the right. 

Would like the faith and hope of Paul, 
So I obey the Master's call ; 
That I might conquer every sin. 
And know the wished for goal to win. 

Would like the heart to love like John. 
Whose Master's kind approval won ; 
When I at last shall find a rest. 
My head may lie on Jesus' breast. 



222 J\Irs. Barroiz's Poems. 

I would like James my duty know. 
My faith l)y works of love would show ; 
When I have done with all on earth. 
Kind memories mav approve mv birth. 

If all these graces can be mine, 
T will not doubt that I shall find. 
As when the night has passed a^\'ay. 
A glorious making up of dav. 



THE STARS OR THE ANGELS' 
FORGET-ME-NOTS. 



When the sun disappears and has left the earth lightless. 

Then the darkness were total when he goes to rest ; 
If by him no reflection were thrown on the sightless, 

He thus proves all is well, he obevs God's behest. 

But the stars his reflection receive on their faces, 

And they too, in their turn throw it back to the earth ; 

So the light from the earth much of its darkness eflaces. 
And they show to God's creatures how untold their 
worth . 

Those bright angel forget-me-nots open their petals, 
A most beautiful ^'ision to me they reveal ; 

And a lesson I learn, as each blossom to me tells. 
Of the owner who furnished for them a blue field. 

A bright field like the crystal, not green like the summer. 
Neither like the cold winter, all covered with snow ; " 

But is beautiful quiet while nature w^oidd slumber. 
And bespeaking God cares for His children below. 

Yes, God cares for His children, the thought is refreshing. 
And the w^aters of life through His garden do flow ; 

Where His children can slake all their thirst while pro- 
gressing. 
Nor must needlessly waste any time as they go. 



A Cold North-Easter. 223 

Fli.s deep wells of sahation are always o'erflcnving. 

Can supply all the springs that His garden may need ; 
If His subjects sincereh- desire His bestowing, 

Thev have only to plant in His garden good seed. 

In the bosom the seed of His grace plant it deeply. 

In the heart there is room and is nourishment too ; 
Is a strange shoot discovered, then pluck it completel} , 

If a germ of a tare grow much mischief may^do. 

And take care that you cultivate fair or foul weather, 
Neither shirk from the duty to cultivate w ell ; 

Then look forth for the harvest the owner will gather, 
And will store in His own home, forever to dwell. 



A COLD NORTH-EASTER. 



A cold north-easter, very true, 

Is not a theme one would admire ; 

But it is forced upon my mind. 

I feel its power though near the hie. 

As easter service is so near, 

Were not ^Eolus on a spree ; 
Neptune could not condense his clouds. 

And drop white feathers down so free. 

Feathers as white as eider-down, 

Which co\ ers nature head and ears ; 

And when she throws her cover off. 
Her bed will all be wet with tears. 

She will not need wdiite blanket then. 

But tears and smiles help make a spread 
Of flowers of every shade and hue. 

Which covers well her ample head. 

Apollo will assmne command. 

And Sol, obedient to his will, 
Will smile, and then the flowers in bloom 

With frairrance soon the air wdll fill. 



224 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

EASTER MORNING. 



This is the day when Christ arose 

vSo early from the tomb ; 
He left His mortal garments there, 

Celestial garb assumed. 

His robes of heavenh- brightness shone. 

With ravs of glorious light ; 
To mortal eyes He was not known, 

For thev had mortal sight. 

With His disciples walked abroad. 
Their sorrowing hearts l)egniled ; 

And taught them many hope'id things. 
To assuage their grief the while. 

He talked about their sorrows, and 
The cause which they explained ; 

And though a stranger He might be. 
Thought He the news had gained, 

He took away the sting of death, 

And lighted up the tomb ; 
Faith helps His children pass its gate, 

And dissipates its gloom. 

Lord, when I leaye this world heliind, 
Death's portals enter through ; 

Light up the scenes beyond this life. 
With heavenly light my view. 

I'll lay my worn-out garments down. 
And leave this house of clay ; 

Put on a robe of righteousness. 
To live in heaven for aye. 



A GAME DINNER. 



I would like to get up a good dinner, you see. 

Yes, for all m}' good friends and for you and for me ; 

For a soup number one, I would think very nice, 

Made of woodcock and pigeons and grouse would suffice. 



A Persian Parable. 225 

Some rabbits and squirrels, red, striped or gray. 
For a soup number two, I would think very gay ; 
And a quarter of coon we will have if you please, 
You can surelv obtain that with greatest of ease. 

For fishes to bake, fry, boil, cliowder, we'll like 
The black bass, the trout and the salmon and pike ; 
Potatoes and squashes, cucumbers and corn, 
Pears, peaches and melons, tiie table adorn. 

We can furnish fair puddings of sago or rice. 
Hot biscuits and butter and pies that are nice ; 
And if anything lacking for dinner we spy. 
We can easily find at the market near by. 

If we only get up as w^e hope such a dinner, 

I am sure it will be fit for saint or for sinner ; 

And I should not restrict you, if you choose to bring. 

To partake of our dinner, a statesman or king. 

I will speak of some others deserving your care. 
Whom you ought to invite to partake of our fare ; 
The lonely and sorrowful always consider. 
More especially bachelors, maidens and widows. 



A PERSIAN PARABLE. 



Bv the side of a precipice deep. 
There a man led a camel along ; 

Nor was heeding its nearness though steep, 
Wliile his beast moved quietly on. 

But Irascible soon he appeared. 
Like the fury of unconquered fire ; 

And his head in great fury he reared. 
As determined to execute ire. 

Soon the man in a fright made a leap. 

If perchance he might fiee from his power ; 

When behold in the watery deep. 
Was a dragon prepared to devour. 



2 26 Mrs. Barron^ s Poems. 

But a shrub of the bank on the brow, 

He took hold of and held with liis might ; 

This sustained him from falling below. 
But not lessened at all was his fight. 

At the root of the shrub where he hung, 
He saw actively onawiii"" two mice ; 

And to finish the work they begun. 
They alternately gnawed for a trice. 

He espied near a cluster of fruit. 

And extended his hand plucked and ate ; 

In the eagerness of his pursuit, 
For a time then his dano-er forgrot. 

Do you ask who can be this mad man. 

VVho such perils of death could forget ; 
I would ask you your own life to scan. 

And you see if your ey(? is not met. 

As the dragon, so death is in sight. 
As the camel so troubles and cares ; 

And the mice that destroy black and white. 
Emblematic of night and day are. 

But the shrub is the frail thread of life. 

To which you with tenacity cling ; 
And v^oluptuous pleasures are rife 

With temptations your passions to win. 

So you reach forth your hand and partake, 
Thus forgetting earth's troubles and gloom ; 

And are scarcely to danger awake, 

Thouo"h you lean o'er the brink of tlie toml). 



THE HUMAN HEART. 



How perfect must have been that hand in art. 
Which first created, framed the human heart ; 
So complicated, perfect, so sublime, 
No hand liad formed it but tlie hand divine. 



The Voice of the Birds. 227 

It never has nor ever wanteth rest. 
While it is needed in the human breast ; 
For four score years its duty does perform. 
Its motion too the whole machinerv warm. 

So perfect this machine no part was spared, 
That it should never stop to be repaired ; 
A hundred thousand strokes from day to da\-. 
Without fatigue, so perfect does it plav. 

And by its motion in the human chest. 

It regulates the functions of the rest ; 

Nor would a single wheel attempt to move. 

If l^ut the heart once motionless should prove. 

Man mav invent a secondarv cause, 

But he must draw his plan from nature's laws ; 

Many, a mind of genius is intent 

On some perpetual motion to invent. 

But man can to perfection ne'er attain, 
Though great mav be his action high his aim ; 
Though he exhaust his wisdom and his aft. 
Yet he can never frame a human heart. 

How is it that the heart and soul combine 

To form what has been termed the human luind ; 

Who can an answer give that will suffice. 

But Him who is the Author, the Allwise. 



THE VOICE OF THE BIRDS 



Come friends and listen to our song, 
We sing to music, sweet and strong; 
Our voices nature's God has given. 
Our music, notes direct from heaven. 

Is any music sweeter, say, 
Than what we give you ever\' day "i 
We sing God's songs, whom we adore. 
No himian artist can do more. 



:28 Mrs. JSarron's Poc/z/s. 

^'(nl who prefer to lie in bed. 
And come not forth tliroug'h fear or (head 
Lose the brij^'ht mornins^'s suiibL^ani view . 
(jod painted tlieni tor us and nou. 

List I other voices vou ma\ hear. 
The chirion notes of chanticleer ; 
Wake up I wake up I lie seems to sav. 
And see the glorious opening- dav. 



I HEAR THE ROBINS SINGING. 



Hear, the robins are sin«in^- their sweet matin song-. 
Mind the notes are harmonious, cheerful and strong-; 
And thev seem to be saving-, come list to our Ivres, 
We will sin<4- \<)u the eciios of IIeavenl\- choirs. 

As the kev notes of Heaven are sweet to our ears. 
We have learned it is better to sin^-. than shed tears ; 
As it takes but a little, to sate our desires. 
We look out on God's works, and ha\e but to admire. 

vSo we sino- in the morning c)ur beautiful song. 
And we sing, or we meditate, all the day long ; 
And the part God assigns us, we cheerfully do, 
And we know what He gives is the best for us too. 

Now, mv friends look abroad, see the trees all in bloom, 
Thev will help vou to dissipate sorrow and gloom ; 
When the l)lossoms have faded, look, then can be seen, 
Where tiie blossoms have been, leaves of beautiful green. 

Look beneath the green leaves, and I think sou will see. 
What will be cjinte as pleasing to nou. as to me ; 
Then the tinv green apples and little wee pears. 
And the miniature peaclies, and plumbs will be tliere. 



Tom- Baby's Pict/irc. 329 

Wc cannot hoe the ^nnind. so to make tlie thin^^s orow, 
l^ut we can kill tiie worms, that do mischief von know ; 
And if ail be as willing, to do good as we. 
IVluch more singing, and jov in the world, there wonld he. 

We ha\e not learned to talk, hntwe ha\e learned to sing, 
And can make as good music, as peasant or king; 
So when we have done singing, we hope all will sav. 
'J'hat the robins have done all the\' could in their day. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Life is made up of shadows as of light. 
Each sunny da\' must \ield its place to night ; 
Viein^: with each, the other would excel 
Fn doing well its part, both doing well. 

Wiselv are all things ordered, could we see 
It is all right; what (iod wills, as can be. 
Life would grow weary were it ever light. 
vSo much of rest we \\^q(\ and find at night ; 
On wings of faith the soid will soar on high. 
No more "•row wear\'. know no shadows nioh, 



YOUR BABY'S PICTURE, 



T have looked up(^n that pictiu'e 

Of your darling little bo\ ; 
And 1 thought liow nou caressed him. 

Father's hope and mother's Jov. 

But God willed that he should leave vou. 

Lea^■e \ou onh- for a time ; 
He should dwell among the angels. 

In a brighter hap]3\ clime. 

There he's waiting for his mother. 

Waiting for his father dear ; 
But he would not you should lea\e now. 

For you vet are needed here. 



230 



Mrs. J3arro?i\s Poems. 

And I think you should not grieve niucli, 
For your loved one f^one hefore ; 

For his loving angel spirit. 
Will be waiting at the door. 

At the door that death shall open. 

Be it soon or be it late ; 
And w^ill ])e vour guardian angel. 

Guide vou on to heaven's gate. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Expect not perfect happiness below, 
Life has no husbandman to make it grow ; 
Life has its sunshine and it has its shade, 
As every landscape has its fields and glades. 
More great the contrast is its beauty made. 
Where'er you go my friend, whate'er you do. 
In ever\' path your friends pro\-e good and true ; 
Life's crosses be entwined with many flowers. 
So trv to lift them, God will give you power ; 
On Him rely. His aid will sure be given, 
Nor will forsake, but guide you safe to heaven. 



AN ACROSTIC, 



Should clouds of doubtful omen e\er rise, 
And cast a shadow o'er thy hopeful skies. 
Resulting from some unexpected cause. 
And vet obedient to God's unveiled laws. 

Have faith in Him whose purpose none can tell. 
Believing that He doeth all things well ; 
A liost of crrateful hearts will bless thy name. 
Long hast thou labored, doing good thy fame. 

Deeds done in mercy will thy life outlive. 
Will bless thv memory when you cease to give ; 
In vour last hours God's grace to you be given, 
New wrings of faith to bear thee swift to heaven. 



Right. 231 

AN ACROSTIC. 



Go forth amon<j^ strangers your fortune to seek. 
Ever prosperous or otherwise, healthy or weak ; 
Or whatever you do or wherever vou he. 
Remember that God doetli all tliinsfs for thee. 



^' 



God alone is the giver and honor should have, 
Each day as we travel the path to the grave ; 
Hope is the best anchor to steady the mind, 
True faith trim the sails that \yill beat against wind. 

Althouj^h fortune does carr\ you far. far away. 
God bless you my friend and my wish is for aye ; 
Good favors and good fortune may linger with you. 
Although your old friendships you change for the new 

Retain in your memory one kind thought for me, 
Death only will seal my kind memories of thee. 



RIGHT, 



I asked a man whose name was Wright, 
Would he explain about a rite ; 
He could not talk he said, but write, 
But yet he could not spell it it right. 

Told me to spell, he could write, 
I told him that to write rite right. 
That he must always write it rite ; 
And if he wished to write, write right. 

That he must always write it write ; 
And if he wished to write right right. 
That he must always write it right ; 
And if he wished to write Wright right, 

That he must learn to write Wright Wright. 
So he learned how to write rite rite. 
And write write w'rite, and write right right, 
And write Wright Wright ; and all was right. 



232 



Mrs. Barro7i^s Poems. 
THE NOBLE FIREMEN. 



We praise the noble firemen, 
For blessings on them pray ; 

For who but them the conquest g'ains, 
O'er fire's distructive sway. 

'Tis not for laural wreaths they fij^'ht, 

Or hopes of worldly gain ; 
The warrior wins the heroe's crown. 

For hosts of foes he's slain. 

The statesman talks to win a fame. 

An office, it may be ; 
If only it be fat enough, 

For others what cares he. 

The lawyer pleads his client's cause. 

And calls himself his friend ; 
But cares not if he shuns the law. 

His fee's his aim and end. 

The preacher talks about men's souls, 
And points them to the sky ; 

Such wages as Saint Paul received. 
Would scarce their talents bu\'. 

The doctor calls to see the sick. 

And oft relieves the pain ; 
It sometimes proves that wdiat he does. 

Is for the hope of gain. 

But oh I the faithful firemen, 

They work so with a will ; 
More than the great professionists. 

With all their boasted skill. 

We pi'aise them who with courage face 
The fire, and smoke in clouds ; 

How man}^ homes now stand for them. 
We praise them long and loud. 



An Acrostic. 233 

SICK IN BED AND TRYING TO WRITE. 



The doctor savs I must leave oft' thinking, 
And might as well say must leave oft' winking 
How to do either T have no knowledge. 
Nor should I if T went to college. 

To have a theme will not suftice. 
More than will looking, rest the eyes ; 
Now when my brain has done its thinking, 
]My eves will then have done their winking. 

Mv heart I think liave done its beating, 
And I shall not care much for eating; 
My body then a worthless shell, 
In which no more this soul can dwell. 

The home my Father did prepare. 
My soul will find a mansion there ; 
No pain or sorrow more will know. 
In this frail bodv here below. 



AN ACROSTIC, 



As little drops of water and little grains of sand. 
Does one help fill the ocean, the other make the land ; 
Deeds, little deeds of kindness do help to fill life's cup. 
In dissipating manv ills leave in it room for hope. 

Each age grows wiser it is said, and grows more wMcked too. 
As my experience goes, I do not think the proverb true ; 
Why may I not take courage since I find so many friends. 
In every path of life I tread their manv kind acts lend. 

Little bright children care for me and bring me lovely 

ftowers. 
So like some little fairies having homes among the bowers. 
Oh, mav vou friends have wings of faith to bear your 

soul on high. 
Nor w;mt a friend, as you have been, and ever kind and 

nigh. 



234 ^Irs. Barrofis Poejus. 

CELEBRATING FREMONT'S DEFEAT 
AFTER ELECTION. 



For to celebrate Fremont's political death. 

Must be something new under the sun ; 
And had Solomon lived in this wonderful age. 

He might see \\ hat has never been done. 

The ordeal 1 h()])cd he might safely pass through. 

As he did through the snows on the mount ; 
Though the eminence sought for he could not attain. 

And his et^brts of no more account. 

But his friends all their needs had in season prepared. 

With a care that betokened their grief; 
Thev were hung in the air for the President's view. 

Thouoh his sta\ in our midst was but brief. 

And his shroud it was made by his friends down in Maine. 

And the cloth was disunion and scars ; 
May its folds be sufficient to wrap him well round. 

Though it had on but sixteen bright stars. 

I have heard of a drowing man catching at straw s. 

Yet he sank for all that in the deep ; 
But I never have heard of a man that was dead. 

Needing aid for to sleep his last sleep. 

It appears more to me like an Irishiuan's wake. 

For a Catholic friend w^ho is dead ; 
When he lights up his gas, star or candle ma}' be. 

At the foot of the coffin and head. 

The oalvanic batterv some think the\ mav use. 

O * ^ • - 

And mav bring him to life by and by ; 
Like the man that was hung he might breathe for a while 
It would be but a worse death to die. 

Poor lessie how badlv indeed she must feel. 
That her hopes have been all swept aw^ay : 

When she thought to preside in a mansion of state. 
But alas I she cannot for a da\ . 



The Children's Gift. 235 

AX ACROSTIC. 



Pure streams of grace ti<j\v trcjm the mount of (jod, 
Have flowed unceasing ere a Moses' rod. 
Eternal wisdom furnished the supplies, 
Before the earth was made of stars or skies. 

Eternity will not th-e fount exhaust. 

Pure streams from pure supplies or all were h^st : 

W'isdom Eternal doeth all things right. 

It is not well to judge though dark the night. 

Light w ill break forth and darkness disappear. 
So we will see God's glorious presence near ; 
Oh, glorious thought that when this life is o'er. 
No more we'll sufler. know no sorrow more. 



THE CHILDREN'S GIFT, 



Once two bright little girls and two bright little boys. 
Thev were loved bv their }Da rents, their hopes and their 

joys; 
All went out in the fields tor some tiowers (jne day, 
On a bright sunn\ morn in the mild month of May. 

As thev gathered mav-tiowers and \'iolets blue. 
Then one said to the others, what now shall w'e do.' 
To the house of a friend with these flowers we'll go. 
And will give them to her for she loveth them so. 

She has no little girls and has no little boys. 
AVho can make her home cheerful and add to her joys ; 
And her head is now ^\-d\ she has lived manv vears, 
She has lost many friends and has shed many tears. 

So away to the home of that widow they sped. 

For their hearts were all light and all followed who led ; 

And presented their gifts for that altar of love, 

And the incense ascended to heaven above- 



236 Mrs. Barron\s Poems. 

'Twas a ])right sunny spot for that lone widow's heart. 
And she asked for one favor more they could impart ; 
The favor she asked and in turn gave was this. 
Was a bright sunnv smile and a partir.g sweet kiss. 

Then they tripped from the door and went ofito their play. 
With their eves looking bright and their hearts feeling gay ; 
iVlay they alvvavs remember that act on that day. 
When thev made one more happy, more happv were they. 



A LITTLE HANDFUL OF VIOLETS. 



1 went otf from m} home, it was not long ago. 
And I visited friends riding to and fro ; 
I went where the sick and sullerin^' were. 
Some tired, desponding, and worn-out with care. 

And I also saw others more yoimg and more gay, 
Who were joyfully passing their time awav ; 
And seemed as if life might be long and bright. 
Before that their day settled down into night. 

I returned to my home v^hen mv visit was done. 
And my home was as sunnv yet there was no one 
To add to my joy or to add to my care, 
No one I might love or to love me was there. 

As I passed through the house so perhaps 1 might see, 
Any change since I left worthy notice could be ; 
When I spied, as I unlocked and opened the door. 
Some violets carefullv laid on the floor. 

I asked myself, now who indeed can it be. 
Has-been out in the fields, gathered flowers for me.^ 
For some child it must be who has called with such care. 
And laid them so carefully down for me there. 

So I thought for the future I ought not despair. 
Since the children could leave me such tokens of care ; 
I am sure that my Father in hea\'en is near. 
Why should T be faithless or why should T fear^ 



Ad die' s^ Pets. 237 

AN ACROSTIC. 



God who has made the sun so bright, 
Each star and nioon that shine bv night ; 
On us he sends refreshing rains, 
Return the clouds, sun shines again. 

(nves life and health to you and me. 
Each bird that flies and beast we see ; 
Spreads on the earth the verdant green. 
Each flower that blooms His eve has seen. 

And all that grows for us to eat, 
Yes, bread and all the fruit and meat ; 
Reigns in the heavens beyond the sk\ , 
►So good, from all eternity. 



ADDIE'S PETS. 



That darling kitty, Tony dear, 
Sometimes sets up an Oh I wail ; 

I spose the reason may be this. 
Because that he has no tail. 

He has a way of hopping round, 

It seems to be his habit ; 
And makes one think he must be near 

Related to a rabbit. 

Nero the great and noble dog, 
Is clad in white and sable ; 

He might be parson, might be judge. 
But cares more for the stable. 

T think if he should see the torch 
Applied to burn his home, sir. 

He would not play the flddle as 
His namesake did in Rome, sir. 



238 Mrs. JBar^'on's Poems. 

They harnessed Nero to a sled. 

And Addie went out riding ; 
She thought to guide him without reins. 

He would not mind lier guiding. 

He did not go as straight along, 
As did well trained Rover ; 

But ran up on the snowv bank. 
Turned sled with ladv over. 

Kitty, the white horse, kind and sprv. 
And Nero looks him over ; 

Shows his appro\ al when kept clean. 
Well fed on oats and clover. 

Those are the three that Addie pets. 

Daily and Bill, two others. 
Are cats, likewise two horses more. 

Are petted by her brothers. 



TIMES THAt TRY MEN'S SOULS 



These are the times that try men's souls, 
So said the author hero brave ; 

Who sought this blessed land of old. 
From foreign tvrannv to save. 

These times are now, what try men's souls. 

More sore, I fear, than those of 3'ore ; 
Then all united heart and hand. 

To drive our foes of foreign shore. 

But now, alas, it is not so. 

For we were sisters heretofore ; 

One section thinks she is abused, 
The other thinks she is the more. 

O, who shall judge between the two? 

Who lay the wrong where it should be.'^ 
Who bind the wound and make it strong, 

A land of hope and libertv } 



AIv Little N^eighhors. 239 

vSome Cincinnatus must arise. 

Who fears no foe and loves the ri<>ht ; 
•And may we to the world vet show. 
That in our L nion still is mioht. 

(jo ye, young braves, if go ve must. 

Go fearlessly, if you must fig-ht ; 
Let not destruction be your aim. 

But onlv battle for the rig-ht. 

Crash not the vanquished when he falls. 

Bind up the wound and help him rise, 
T'he God of Hosts will note the grace. 

By scribes immortal in the skies. 



MY LITTLE NEIGHBORS 



Patter, patter little feet. 
Such a sound I love to greet ; 
'Tis a sound I like to hear. 
It is music to my ear. 

Gently opening the door. 
Running swiftly 'cross the floor. 
Jumping into papa's bed, 
Where he lately laid his head. 

There mamma lies nice and warm. 
Clasps her darling in her arms ; 
Snatching hone\- from the lip . 
.Sweeter than the bees can sip. 

After sleeping through the night, 
Waking with the morning light ; 
What more pleasing for the while, 
'i'han the prattle of a child. 

When papa has been away. 
Tired, from working all the day. 
He is not too tired you see. 
Takes his darlings on his knee. 



240 J/?'s. Barrov's Poems. 

When the chores have all been done 
Stories told and all the fnn : 
When their little prayers are said, 
Mamma tucks tliem in tlieir bed. 



OUR GOLDEN WEDDING 



Jnst iiftv years ago to-day. 

Bright morning of my pride : 

I took this bonny lassie here. 
To be my loying bride. 

Like as a ne\y blown lily bright. 

My lassie then \yas fair ; 
The rose was blooming on her cheek. 

Black eyes, dark anlmrn hair. 

Her lips were like the rubies too. 

Her teeth like rows of pearls ; 
I now remember her I thought. 

The prettiest of girls. 

As time rolled on, God sent us loyes. 

To bless our hearts and homes ; 
Like angels hovering 'round our home 

To us their faces shone. 

As we gfrew older they i^rew too. 

In bod}' and in mind ; 
If faults but few that we could see. 

Afl'ectionate and kind. 

God blest our path with plenty too. 

Our comforts were not spare ; 
And many friends not of our homes. 

Our blessings came to share. 

But clouds do sometimes hide the sun. 

It does not always shine ; 
And sorrow sometimes crossed tlie path 

Of my dear wife and mine. 



A Pretty Picture. 241 

God wills, and disappointments come, 

And when He will, He may 
Dispel the clouds, that we may see 

His grace shines on our way. 

Few ha\'e been spared so long as -we 

Together both to live ; 
And few more blessing's haye been "fiven. 

Perhaps than we've received, 

I'm growing old, my head is gray. 

And some gray hairs has she ; 
But yet she is the dearest still 

Of all the world to me. 

Although the rose is faded now, 

Some wrinkles by the way ; 
I still prefer her for my bride, 

This golden wedding day. 

Now may our second honey-moon 

Shine brightly on our way ; 
Till we arrive where moons are not. 

But one eternal day. 



A PRETTY PICTURE 



I saw a man sit in his cottage door, 

And his heart seemed so light and so free ; 

Two darlings were playing upon the ground, 
And one stood by his side made three. 

As she wound her arms around his neck. 
And a kiss printed on his fair brow ; 

Methought if he be not a happy man, 
'Tis because that he don't know ho^-. 

His wife sat beside him, so' young and fair, 
With a heart quite as gay as his own ; 

I thought that he never need envy the rich. 
No, nor even a monarch his throne. 



242 Airs. Barron's Poe?ns., 

DARLING LITTLE HATTIE TAGGARD 



Little Hattie Taggard called on me to-dav. 
And she gave me a prettv little bright bouquet ; 
But what was prettier still it was this, 
She gave with lips such a sweet little kiss. 

Her eyes were as pure and as clear and bright 
As the stars are that shine in the heavens at night ; 
Her cheeks like the rose did remind of bliss, 
When she gave with her lips such a sweet little kiss. 

Little cherub hands that held the bright bouquet. 
Will be larger and will do greater things some day ; 
And may she remember the charm of this, 
A briofht sunnv smile and a sweet little kiss. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



As you progress along life's untrod way, 
New scenes will open to your view each day ; 
New hopes of happiness, I would they be 
All fraught with beauty, joy and love to thee. 

Each tlower that blooms, proceed the sweetest fruit, 
Develop rare and new in each pursuit ; 
All flowers will fade and fruit in time decay. 
Virtue alone outlives the distant day. 

In everv act of life be this your aim. 

Seek to excel in grace and virtuous fame ; 

I remember you when with your bright azure eyes. 

And your soft sunnv hair, you resembled the skies. 

So vour round dimpled cheeks and your sweet ruby lips, 
They were like to the seraph who nectar can sip ; 
When your eves shall grow dim and your head shall be 

gray. 
And your cheeks shall be wrinkled, show marks of decay. 

As vou restrospect scenes that were pleasant to thee. 
Will vou cherish some fond recollections of me? 



To a Friend. 243 

AN ACROSTIC. 



May the blessings of Heaven descend upon you, 
And as plenty and pure as the sunniier morn dew ; 
Rich and sweet be the fruit of all friendships you form, 
Yielding- strength to your soul your atiections to warm. 

Like the star in the East which the shepiierds did guide, 
On your pathway of life may kind Heaven provide ; 
Unto God give the praise and the honor all due, 
In whatever the sphere He apportions to vou. 

Should a trouble arise like a cloud cast a shade. 
Ever think that a cloud is of particles made ; 
Each and every drop which descends to the earth, 
A deep root perhaps aids to life germinates birth. 

Yielding fruit in the future of life giving power, 
Ruled by One who can see through a life as an hour ; 
So our hopes and our fears are like sunshine and showers. 



TO A FRIEND, 



I am thinking now of Minnie, 
That blessed darling child ; 

Sitting upon her mother's lap. 
So innocent and mild. 

As when the other day I saw, 

I seem to see her now ; 
The embodiment of peace and love, 

Depicted on her brow. 

May she be spared, long may she live. 

To bless her parent's life ; 
Nor have to tread life's thorny ways, 

Nor mingle in its strife. 

But be as pure as she is now'. 
As angels sent from Heaven ; 

To bring- the tidings God has sent, 
His peace to mortals given. 



244 Mrs. Barron's Poems, 

AN ACROSTIC. 



Creator of the universe. 

How glorious is Thy throne ; 
All that is, now or was at first, 

Reveals all power Thine own. 

Look down from Heaven, thy dwelling place, 

Each heart subdue and bless ; 
Save God, bv Thine Almighty grace, 

Each soul from sin oppressed. 

And may Thy spirit cheer our way, 

Yea, dissipate all gloom ; 
Reveal to us, eternal day. 

So bright, be\ ond tiie tomb. 



WRITTEN IN A LETTER TO A 
YOUNG FRIEND. 



You are young, your lieart is light, 
And the future should look bright ; 
I would wish it might be so. 
Life be pleasant as you go. 

As a path that's strewed with flowers. 
As a garden filled with bowers ; 
Flowers where frag'rance fills the air. 
White and every shade that's fair. 

There are trees whose flowers in spring. 
Hopes of future good they bring ; 
Hopes that fruit those trees will grace. 
In the autumn fill their place. 

So when winter comes around. 
Ice and snow enshroud the ground ; 
When the ripened fruit is good. 
Making relishes for food. 



An Acrostic. 

'Tis no sin to love the flowers. 
Sit beneath the garden bowers ; 
Nor to join with those around, 
Qin'et pastimes that are found. 

But allow not that, mj friend. 
Be yojLU- only aim and end ; 
Aim to do what good you can. 
Noble mind that makes the man. 

As the i^owers adorn the tree, 
Noble acts will garnish thee ; 
vStore your mmd with all that's good. 
In old age 'twill serve for food. 

By and by not long the night. 
When this hand shall cease to write, 
When no happier thoughts with thee, 
As vour friend, remember me. 



245 



AN ACROSTIC 



As flowers breathe fragrance through the ai] 
Diflusing pleasure everywhere, 
Does cheerfulness where e're it goes 
Inspire to lift the thoughts from woes.? 

Each time you turn these pages o'er. 
May hopes be brighter than before ; 
Kind memories oft come up to you. 
In which you feel their friendships true. 

Trust not alone in earthly friends, 
There's One who aid can alway lend : 
Remember, should a cloud aris^e. 
Ever beyond the clouds, the skies 

Do shine perpetual and bright ; 
God's glory can dispel the night, 
Eternitv will make all risht. 



246 Mrs. Barro7t^s Poems. 

TO A NEIGHBOR. 



Quite many years have passed away, 
Since first with you, my friend, I met. 

The friendship which we then did form, 
Has never waned, shines brightly yet. 

How man}- scenes have come and gone, . 

Some pleasant and some sad indeed ; 
And dearest friends have gone for aye, 

Left me behind to sigh in weed. 

I well remember one with me, 

First called to bid you welcome here : 

A lasting welcome proved to be, 
A trusty friend, a long time near. 

In scenes of sickness when I've called. 
You sat and cared for me all right ; 

A friend indeed, I've thought you true. 
In sickness, health, by day or night. 

Your darling little blue-eyed boy. 
With sunny hair so mild and bright, 

Now grown up to a nice young man. 
To walk the way of truth and right. 

Your husband too, still by your side, 
Whom you may well be jDroud to ow^n ; 

In his profession most excels. 

Trustworthy too as he has shown. 

One more makes up your family. 
Your loving sister, good and true ; 

All your undoubted right to love, 
I sometimes almost envy you. 

It is not long before I shall. 

For want of loved ones mourn no more ; 
For I shall know they are not lost, 

But only they have gone before. 



Soliloquy of an Old .Majt. 247 

And I shall meet them vet again. 

Where moons wane not or suns go down ; 

God's glory one eternal day, 
No sin or sorrow to be found. 



SOLILOQUY OF AN OLD MAN, 



A man of nearly fourscore years. 
Whose life had been fatigue and care ; 
Whose perseyering effort had 
Raised many a suHerer from his bed. 

Pondering on his now lonely life. 
His lovely now departed wife ; 
Her smiles thought he, once my delight, 
Are hid forever from my sight. 

If she were here when ill betides, 
To grace my lovely fireside ; 
When I am sick, to make my bed. 
And smooth my pillow 'neath my head ; 

Methinks that I could bear with ease, 
My troubles and infirmities ; 
If I could hear her soothing voice. 
As when it made my heart rejoice. 

Nor will I murmur, that my God 
Thus on me la3's His chastening rod ; 
I know my end is drawing- nig-h. 
And hope to meet her in the sky. 

If God look down with gracious eye, 
Grant me His presence from on high ; 
When I am called to yield my breath. 
My faith may triumph over death, 

I'll bid farewell to all below. 

Rejoice when called from hence to go. 

If only be His surety given, 

That T may have a home in heaven. 



248 Mrs. Barrofi's Poems. 

THE GREAT FIRST CAUSE. 



Who can the works of nature scan. 
And see how wiselv all are planned. 
And study well her code of laws. 
And not behold her ''Great First Cause." 

Who can behold the sun arise. 

And hasten onward through the skies : 

Nor ever the conclusio!i draws, 

That there must be a "Great First Cause." 

The moon dispels the gloom of night, 
The stars display their radiant light. 
Proclaim that all, that is and was. 
Are governed bv the -'Great First Cause." 

The ocean's waves, the mountain towers, 
The verdant grass, the blooming flowxrs, 
The rain that falls, the snow that thaws, 
Obedient to the ''Great First Cause." 

Majestic streams and rippling rills, 
And flocks that graze the thousand hills. 
The birds that fly '<^\\^ sing or caw, 
L'uite to praise the "Great First Cause." 

The bow that shines among the clouds, 
The lightning and the thunders loud. 
In every peal, in every pause. 
Bespeaks a wise, a "Great First Cause." 

The human frame as loudly speaks. 
The symmetry is so complete ; 
The contemplative mind with awe 
Aspires to know its "Great First Cause." 

How sublunary is the mind. 

vStudies sublimity nor finds 

An index in her every clause 

That points him to a "Great First Cause." 



The Slothful Rill. 249 

Could I ascend the tlirone of fiime. 

Enjoy the luxuries gold obtains ; 

All would be vain to me as dross, 

If there were not a '^Great First Cause." 

I'll welcome the approach ot death, 

Rejoice at last to yield my breath : 

If He who died upon the cross 

But leads me to the "Great First Cause." 



THE SLOTHFUL RH.L, 



On the mountain top a little rill 
Refused its duty to fullll ; 
Was asked the reason, stop for wliy.-^ 
The rill made ready this reph : 

I k)U)w m\ Maker made me pure, 
But still mv sphere is so obscure 
I do no good, for if I run. 
The trees and shrubs obscure my sun. 

My path is rugged, drear and steep. 
And when I reach the rivers deep. 
No more is known that I have done. 
I sooner stav here in the sun. 

And I advise mv neighbors too, 
As I am doing, they may do ; 
All we can do is all in vain, 
The rivers only merit faine. 

'i'he neighboring rills thought he was wise. 

And ceased to run as he advised ; 

And as they needed no supply. 

The springs sustaining them grew dry. 

Instead of pure, transparent rills. 
Thev soon with particles were filled ; 
Became but filthy stagnant pools, 
And learned too late that thev were fools. 



250 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

Because the little rills were dried, 
Trees, shrubs and blossoms all soon died. 
A vapid scene the valley filled. 
But this was not the end of ill. 

The river which in former time 
Appeared majestic and sublime ; 
Now unassisted by the rills. 
No more her dutv could fulfil. 

All transportation soon was stopped. 
And traffic on the water dropped ; 
The shock was felt throug^hout the land. 
And business took a deadly stand. 

A question "rose about the cause : 
And nature answered, that her laws 
Were disobeyed. The obscure rills 
Refused obedience to her will. 

I will a remedy provide, 
And down the mountain's rugged side, 
I'll cause the rippling streams to pour. 
And all will prosper as before. 

The slothful rills rejoiced to know 
Their crystal streams as^ain mi^fht flow ; 
And down the mountain through the glen. 
They moved on silently again. 

Their influence did concatenate. 
The river soon again was great ; 
Business soon brightened, and assumed 
A lively aspect 'stead of gloom. 

Thus we can see how small a cause. 
Will chang-e the course of nature's laws ; 
The earth though one stupendous ball. 
Atoms adhering, form it all. 

So human rights and human laws. 
If traced will show some minute cause ; 
One casts a vote, it counts but one. 
All do the same, elections done. 



Cha7ige of Seasons, an KnibJcni of hifc. 251 

So nations rise and nations tall. 
The impulse felt at tirst was small ; 
The u^reat first cause of all, is He 
Who liveth from eternits . 



CHANGE OF SEASONS, AX EMBLEM 
OF LIFE. 



On a fair vernal morning, a bright morn of May, 
Earth was clad with fine verdm-e, herblossoms were gay ; 
Exhaling an odor, made balmv the breeze. 
As it floated so genth' 'mid unfolding leaves. 

And the music of birds too was borne on the air. 
They were pouring forth notes in sweet melodv there ; 
And the landscape was beautiful, hillock and glen. 
Where were flocks feeding quietlv also the fen. 

Tliis I thought, is an emblem of \outh, void of care, 
\\xii its hopes ha\ e been blighted whose prospects are fair, 
Looking forth to some good which without an allov 
Will till to overflowing the cup of their joy. 

On a midsummer morning I passed there again. 
Eaith her carpet of verdure and beautv retained ; 
'['he bright vernal blossoms had faded and gone, 
W'b.at appeared now most lovelv was flourishing corn. 

The fruit t<jo was growing and all that was good, 
All that man could desire to sustain him for food ; 
Hut the wild thorn and thistle and also the brier. 
Which were harmless in spring now grew higher and 
high'jr. 

As is summer so virtuous man middle aged. 
Who would make himself useful in good is engaged ; 
His prospects look pleasing yet trouble and care. 
Like the thorns and the thistles are often his share. 



2^2 Mrs. Barj'oit's Poems. 

x\gain I was there on a cold lurid morn. 

The recently waiving and flourishing corn ; 

The trees, flelds and flowers which in spring were so gay 

Had been nipped by the frosts now looked waning and gray. 

No music of birds could be heard in the trees, 
No odor from blossoms was borne on the breeze; 
A stillness peryaded the landscape around. 
Scarce an animate object was known b\- the sound. 

This thought I is like when extreme old age appears ; 
When all actiye is done and life's end drawing near, 
When the eye has grown dim, the ear deaf, the head gray, 
And all but the body has gone to decay. 

On a cold winter morning the sun had grown pale, 
The snow spread her mantle o'er upland and dale ; 
All that once was so loyely. o'er nature's fair face, 
Now lay passively dormant, nor the landscape did grace. 

So the winter of death will destroy and entomb, 
All of man that was useful or ever did bloom ; 
But as seed ere it germinates ripens and dies, 
So mankind must die too ere ascending the skies. 



WINTER IS COMING 



Cold \yinter is coming he soon will be here, 
By the sound of his footsteps he seems to be near ; 
All nature before him soon prostrate will bow. 
And he'll coyer her face vsith his mantle of snow. 

If he never had made us a visit before, 

We should dread his approach and his presence deplore ; 

Chains and fetters he carries so all that he finds 

If he conquers in triumph he grasps and confines. 

Though his sceptre he sways causing nature to sleep. 
Vernal suns will repulse him and cause his retreat ; 
His heart they will soften, his strength will subdue. 
He will weep at the conquest and bid them adieu. 



Tour Baby. 253 

Then spring will advance with her beautiful train, 

The earth will rejoice that her right is to reign ; 

The longer she goxerns the milder she grows. 

And the lairds sing most sw^eetly while pure waters How. 

When she ciu'es all the evils that winter has done. 
And the full approbation of nature has won ; 
As summer approaches she calmly retires. 
With the hope her successor will rule as required. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Now since you have taken my friend for your wife. 
And proinise to aid and protect her through life ; 
Nor shiumed at the altar of hymen to bow^, 
Confiding we trust vou will pay all ^'our vows. 

You have chosen one worthy vour love and respect. 
Protect her, nor treat her with knowing neglect ; 
Do sickness and sorrow your prospects annoy. 
And your hopes and prosperity ever destroy. 

Never think that alone you have trouble and care, 
For while she shall live she your troubles will share, 
Oh, she knows how to svmpathize ever I know, 
Repay yow fourfold all the service vou do, 

That your hearts are united I doubt not, and true. 
Henceforth for the present I bid you adieu. 



YOUR BABY. 



I'm thinking of your baby. 
Your darling blessed child ; 

That precious gift from heaven. 
So beautiful and mild. 

No jewel for the bosom. 
No crown to fit the head. 

Can seem so dear as Gracie, 
While sleeping in her bed. 



254 



Mrs. Bar7'07i's Poe?ns. 

And when she crows like babies, 

Or hiughs t') see papa ; 
Her eyes must shine with beauty. 

As does the morning star. 

I have not in my casket, 
Such gems so dear to me ; 

But when I go to heaven, ' 
Such angels I shall see. 



I HAD A DEAR PAPA. 



I had a dear papa who loved me. 

And I climbed on his knee for a kiss ; 
And he hugged me and called me his darling, 

His pet and his dear little sis. 

When papa was sick or was tired. 

And too tired to go out to ride ; 
Then sometimes when he lays down to rest him, 

I climbed up and lay by his side. 

He reached out his hand and I kissed it. 
And he said to me something like this ; 

I must fear that my dear little daughter, 
Will not long have a papa to kiss. 

He did not wake up in the morning. 
And he slept all the night and the day ; 

Then they brought him a nice pretty cradle. 
Then they put him in there for to lay. 

When I spoke to him I could not wake him, 
And before I had bid him good night. 

When I left him for only a minute, 
Thev took him away from my sight. 

They say he has gone up to Heaven, 
For to dwell with the angels of light ; 

And when I shall g-o to Him with mamma. 
We shall never more know^ a dark night. 



Do your Duty. 255 

DO YOUR DUTY. 



Cast your bread upon the waters. 
Sow the seed, sow plenty grain ; 

Never fear that you will lose it, 
It will come to vou a«ain. 

Though the waters now may liide it. 

It will sprout beneath the flood ; 
Be it all now hid with darkness. 

Will return to vou for food. 

For the overflow i no- waters. 

Will have left where they have been ; 
So the sun will shine upon it, 

And the germs will all be green. 

It will grow in strength and ripen. 

All its beauties will retain ; 
And a hundred fold can harvest. 

Of the rich and golden grain. 

Never fear to do a kindness, 

To the needy on the way ; 
Should they' never have the means to 

Pay you back, some others may. 

Many a man in time of trouble, 
Forced to beg from door to door. 

Has had changed his sad misfortune. 
And possessed a fortune's store. 

If one talent you have only, 

Try to use that talent well ; 
Though 'tis small, if you improve it. 

In your future life will tell. 

Don't refuse to work for small pay, 
When you can't more wages get ; 

Faithfully perform your duty, 
That will confidence beget. 



256 Mrs. Barron^s Poe7ns. 

Jacob Astor when a young lad, 
Traded first in muskrat skins ; 

Later, was a merchant furrier, 
What a rich man lie has been. 

So the Rothschild's eldest brother. 
To earn money laid his plan ; 

And he vended silk to sew with, 
Thus his fortune first began. 

Thav have been the ".reatest bankers. 

England has or e\'er had ; 
And this fact vou may remember. 

They were once but little lads. 

All boys can't be merchant princes, 
Each should do his duty well ; 

Neyer fear to do the right thing. 
And the truth to always tell. 

(jird your loins with truth unyarnished, 
Buckle on a plate so bright ; 

Should you meet opposing falsehood. 
You will conquer for the right. 



GOING THROUGH THE VALLEY OR 
GATE OF DEATH. 



1 can see the angels coming, 
I can see my Saviour too ; 

To the gate that death shall open. 
That will let my spirit through. 

See my father and m>- mother. 
They are angels, I can see ; 

And my sisters »nd my brothers. 
They are coming all to me. 

Jesus with His lamp of glory. 
He is lighting up the way ; 

And beyond this vale of darkness, 
I can see eternal day. 



How T Would Like to Pass Over' the River. 3^7 

He will guide us all to Heaven. 

Where His Father's face we'll see ; ' 
Where we'll know no pain or sorrow, 

Through a long eternity. 

Mourning friends I leave behind me. 

Not for distant time to you : 
Death will throw its portals open, 

And will let your spirit through. 

I will come with them to meet vou. 

Never fear, we wont be late ; 
And our Saviour will be with us. 

And will light you through the gate. 

We will all go home together. 

All will sing the heavenly song ; 
Never feel that we are weary. 

Never know the dav is long. 



HOW^ I WOULD LIKE TO PASS 
OVER THE RIVER. 



I would like to pass over the river, 
While I'm quietly sleeping at night. 

And no waves that will waken my dreaming. 
Till the earth shall recede from mv sight. 

And the sound that shall greet me at waking. 
Be the voices of friends gone before ; 

Who w^ill meet me and bid me a welcome. 
To a home on that bright happv shore. 

To a home that my wSaviour has told me. 
That His Father has ready for me ; 

And the glory of God, the Eternal, 
In His fulness I ever mav see. 

Where the music of purified spirits 
Shall be borne on the transparent air ; 

Then my own voice would join in the chorus, 
And be mingled with those that are there. 



258 J/;\?. Barron's Poems. 

Then my hoAy my friends may deposit. 
Which will moulder and turn to decay 

But I shall not feel aught of its changes. 
For mv soul will have left it for aye. 



A MOTHER PASSED AWAY. 



i\s the sun'arose out from his orient bed. 
And displayed to the earth his all glorious head ; 
With a wave of his wing made of rays of light. 
He dispersed from the face of the earth the night. 

When a chariot ready, a glorious car. 
Fitted out at the mansion of gates ajar, 
Was directed to earth b}' a messenger. 
And it stopped at a home for a passenger. 

There a spirit had lived'in a house of clay. 
And a beautiful spirit forTmany a day ; 
'Tw^as a mother endeared by the strongest ties. 
But the springs of her life w^ere now growing dry. 

Thoupfh as dear to her friends and as loved was she. 
As was ever a mother who loved can be ; 
When the messenger came and had stopped his car, 
She was ready to go as a passenger. 

For the wdieels of her life now had ceased to mo\e. 
And her ties were all broken for all she loved ; 
As she need not to wait for companions more. 
Went away to her friends who had gone before. 

And she seemeth to say from that distant shore. 
As my bodily sufferings all are o'er. 
Lay it out of your sight and think only of me, 
As an angel of light with the happ}- free. 

Do not mourn for me more that' I passed away. 
For the home w^here I dwell is perpetual day ; 
And the friends I had thought they were lost to me. 
In this beautiful mansion of God I see. 



/ Would Pass Away. 259 

It will not be long time ere you all will come. 
When you too will be welcome to Heaven our home : 
Where will be no more parting, no tears be shed. 
For the sorrows of life and no tears for the dead. 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 



Friends are but few so we are told. 
Real warm friends that wont grow cold ; 
As on vour journey vou progress. 
New friends be vours that grow no less. 

Keep those you have, if tried and true. 
In haste change no one for new ; 
Expect perfection not to find. 
Cherish if one be o-ood and kind. 



I W^OULD PASS AW^AY. 



The earth seems so diminutive. 

I want to soar away ; 
Where in God's presence I can live. 

In one eternal day. 

No sable night to cast a gloom, 
Or clouds obscure mv way ; 

(iod's glory one perpetual noon 
Of one eternal da v. 

No dial needed there to keep 
The hours that pass away ; 

No weary bodies needing rest, 
Through one perpetual day. 

Aly friends will not be growing old. 

No natures to decay ; 
But only goodness will unfold 

For one eternal dav. 



26o Airs. Barroji's Poems. 

M^ friends whom I may leave behind. 

Who linger by the way ; 
Keep 'se in view the star that jDoints 

l\i one eternal da\-. 

When all shall reach that lia\en, we 
Will join the heavenly lay ; 

And sing the praises of our God, 
Through one eternal da>-. 



SUBMISSION TO THE CROSSES OF LIFE, 



vSliall not the Judge of all do right? 

W ho made the earth and seas and sUies ; 
And bv His mercv and His powers, 

All His creation's \vants supplies. 

When sorrow overwhelms the soul. 

And seems too much for one to bear ; 
He thinks he cannot lift the cross. 

Would pass it bv and leave it there. 

The cross is fastened to the ground. 

And from the ground the soul must rise ; 

When tried with the refiners fire. 
Is better fitted for the skies. 

The Saviour could not lift His cross. 
Too much its weight alone to bear ; 

Another gave the needed aid. 

And His great sorrow helped to sha:c. 

And in His dying hours so tried, 

W hile han""inH' on the accursed tree ; 

In agonizing sorrow cried 

Whv has mv God forsaken me? 

If He, who was the Son of God, 
Was left in sorrow thus to die ; 

Ought we not who are left behind, 
To follow His path to the skies. 



A Still Squall V'olce. 261 

He said His P'ather's house is there, 
^ And many mansions does contain ; 
For all His children will prepare 

A restin<^ place their souls will ^-mw. 

Then let us hope and follow on, 

7'houo-h far behind for want of grace : 

^'et by and bv we shall behold 
His glory and all graciousness. 



A STIL.L SMALL -VOICE. 



There came to me a still small voice. 

So calm and soft, it spc^ke to me ; 
That faith and hope told me rejoice. 

And by and by His face I'll see. 

It seemed to say come, trust my child. 
^ You need not fear, 1 calm the sea ; 
Fear not, although the waves are wild, 
Vou may be safe, child, trust in me. 

When on life's shore dread not the dark. 

'Fhough winds seem boisterous ma\- be; 
\'ou need not fear to launch your barque. 

I'll guide your life-boat, trust in Me. 

Those faces now you see no moi'e, 

With angel forms will come to Thee : , 

Jesus will be the light before. 
And safely guide, child, trust in Me. 

Lord, I would trust though not on land. 
Thy mighty hand reach forth to Me; 

If I may grasp it, safely stand 

And walk upon the deep blue sea. 



262 Mrs. JBarron^s Poems. 

When death shall open wide the gate, 
And let Thy imprisoned spirit free ; 

Angels will come nor will be late, 

Yon need not fear, child, trnst in Me. 

I have a mansion all prepared, ■ 

Where angels dwell all safe and free ; 

Wlien von get home then you will know 
Whv I have said, child/trust in Me. 



A DREAM. 



The dark deep shades of night were passing by. 
The stars were leaving one bv one the skv ; 
The rosy tints of oriental light 
Were spreading rays and dissipating night. 

Beside the window stood a little bed. 

On which a little innocent was laid ; 

I had beside that bed my vigils kept. 

And watched that child as quietly she slept. 

I looked and lo, convulsions shook that frame. 
And vet no outcries from the sufferer came ; 
Not long before that, to my great surprise. 
Her sternum opened and her head likewise. 

Soon from that opening issued forth to sight, 

A vision beautiful, a form of light; 

The body tenantless, no breathing moved. 

No voice to speak, no smile to show she loved. 

That form of li«-ht assumed a vision fair. 
With face and eyes and ringlets bright of hair ; 
Not long it lingered, soon she passed away, 
To realms of glorv and eternal day. 

Thus darling Blanche seemed to pass from here. 
As dreaming, I conceived her to be near ; 
Next dav a telegram received, which said, 
Blanche had passed away, and she was dead. 



/ do Not Fear to Die, 263 

ON THE DEATH OF LH^TLE BIRDIE. 



You ask, where has your birdie tiowu .' 
Seraphic wings to heaven have borne 
Your darling- child, vou loved so well, 
Is now with angels bright to dwell. 

Then dry vour tears dear mother, do, 
I only ha\'e been loaned to you ; 
M}' body only God did give, 
My spirit was His own to live. 

And you, dear tather, weep no more, 
I lead the way to yon bright shore ; 
Dear sister, do not weep for me. 
For I will watch and wait for thee. 

Grandpa, and grandma, soon will be 
Your tiu'n to leave and come to me ; 
My aunts and uncles all may come 
And join mc in m\ heavenly home. 

You all must watch and wait God's time 
His will is law. His love divine ; 
Though I no more can come to ye. 
All in- due time can come to me. 



I DO NOT FEAR TO DIE. 



Sin unrepented only, should 

Be the sole reason why 
That I should fear the doubtful path, 

That I should fear to die. 

Why should I fear to wash mv clothes, 
And hang them out to drv ; 

Or cast them oft unfit for use, 
As well might fear to die. 



364 Mrs. Barron^s Poems. 

My Saviour makes the valley light, 

To mansions in the skies ; 
Then why should I its darkness dread, 

Why should I fear to die? 

'I'hough nianv pains disturb mv rest, 
Decay seems drawing- nigii ; 

My Saviour taught me that to bear, 
VVh}' should I fear to die ? 

Friends whom I love, mourn not for me. 

When I shall say good-by : 
My hope is strong, my faith is bright, 

I do not fear to die. 

Faith lifts the veil bevond this life. 
To realms of boundless sky ; 

Why should I fear to look beyond "i 
Whv should I fear to die,^ 

When eyes grow dim, I cannot see 
The light with mortal eve ; 

My guardian angels lead the way. 
I will not fear to die. 



AN ONLY SON. 



I went to church not long ago, 

The earth was covered o'er with snow. 

The air was wintry cold ; 
Within all pleasant looked to me. 
As ever I was pleased to see. 

The lambkins of the fold. 

Among them, whom the scene did cheer 
Were little lads and lasses dear ; 

Thev looked so many loves ; 
And there was one, a little child. 
His eyes were black and he looked mild. 

And eentle as the doves. 



An Only Son. 265 

His mother doting on her child. 

Looked down, and he looked up the while ; 

Their eyes met lovingly ; 
Each looked complacently on each. 
Their thoughts seemed speaking without speech. 

Both looked approvingly. 

Methouo-ht she must be blest indeed, 
God had bestowed a precious meed, 

A lasting: o-ift from heaven ; 
Not so, a summons came one day, 
And bade that child should leave for aye. 

And soon dear ties were riven. 

A precious casket for his bed. 
A silken cushion for his head. 

Robed in a suit of green ; 
Fit emblem of immortal life. 
Where ceases sin and mortal strife. 

As laurel evergreen. 

His mother kissed him as at night, 
A blanket o'er him pure and white 

She spread to keep him warm ; 
Fit emblem of his purity, 
NoAV clothed in immortalitv. 

Secure from every harm. 

The promise which the Saviour told. 
Their angels alwavs do behold 

His Father's glorious face ; 
Has balm to heal the wounded heart. 
And comfort to the soul impart. 

Gives faith to trust His grace. 

Again, into that house of praver 
I went, that mother too was there. 

She was alone that day ; 
For not her little black eved boy. 
Who was her only and her joy, 

No, he had passed away. 



266 Mrs. Barron^s Poevjs. 

WHY SHOULD I WEEP FOR THOSE 
GONE BEFORE? 



Why should I weep, those gone before. 
To pave my way to Heaven ; 

The path they've trod will bear me o'er. 
When hopes on earth are riven. 

The time can not be far away. 

When I for one must go ; 
And bid adieu to friends for ave. 

And all on earth below. 

Nor would I wish to linger here, 
When friends and hopes are gone ; 

To wet my couch with bitter tear. 
And feel mvself alone. 

When this, my earthly tenement. 

Will not sustain repair, 
And nature's tenants claim the rent. 

They too may have the care. 

My soul no more will need to roam, 
My wants will God supply ; 

He will prepare for me a home, 
A mansion in the skies. 



A PRAYER. 



Lord, lead me to the throne of grace. 
So I may see God face to face ; 
Thousfh but a still small voice I hear. 



'is 



Enouofh to know that God is near 



'^^ 



I know indeed that He is near. 
And will my supplications hear ; 
Assuage my anguish, quell my grief. 
And give my sorrowing soul relief. 



Perseverance Under Affliction. 267 

Assay my soul, though suftering be 
The medium which may show to Thee ; 
Thy own dear image, pure and bright, 
Reflected by Thy rays of light. 

When I thus purified shall be, 
Make me a vessel meet for Thee ; 
Filled from the fountain of Thv grace, 
Then I shall kuow I see Thv face. 



PEACEFUL ARE HIS SLUMBERS 



Peaceful are his slumbers, peaceful 
Death has closed his tearless eves ; 

Angels bore his blessed spirit 
Up to Heaven, above the skies. 

Weep no more, bereaved mother, 
Though your loss be great, severe ; 

God has willed it, 3'es, has willed it. 
Shed no more the bitter tear. 

Though you never more mav greet him, 
Never more will see him here ; 

You in Heaven may hope to meet him. 
Where's no parting, no more tears. 

God has willed and Jesus said it. 

Children angels may behold ; 
God's own face yes, may behold it. 

See His orforv vet untold. 



PERSEVERANCE UNDER AFFLICTION. 



The Saviour bore His heavy cross. 
Up calvary's rugged side.' 

He also w^ore a crown of thorns, 
And there was pierced His side. 



268 Mrs. Barron'' s Poeins. 

Through tribulation sore and herce, 
His path He climbed to heaven ; 

And now to those who follow on 
His promises are given. 

To heaven, oh blessed thought, to heaven ; 

He points the pathway true ; 
And there a mansion has prepared. 

Though old, 'tis always new. 

Then climb the hill for \ou can do 
What saints have done before ; 

Though rough and hard the path may be. 
Climb up as high and more. 

Now Jesus on the summit stands, 

And beckons us to come : 
Then let us trust and press our speed. 

Until we reach our homes. 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Since you received from Cupid's dart 
K wound, sunk deeph' in your heart ; 
Rebounding back to Willie's side, 
And vou resolve to be his bride : 
How well it is, that vou should be. 
Just equal wounded, you and he. 

On hymen's altar you can lay 
Such offering as shall meet the dav ; 
Even yourselves that will suffice. 
Prepared for holy sacrifice ; 
Hymen the god, always presides 
At nuptials o'er the groom and bride. 

How^ sometimes bitter tears are shed 
O'er friends w^ho leave us when they wed ; 
But hopes so bright as seem to be 
Surrounding all your friends and ve. 
Only one passion called, is joy, 
No fond regrets, no grief alloy. 



Try to Lift The Cross. 269 

AN ACROSTIC. 



Washington, the greatest man, was once a little boy, 
I've often heard it said of him he was his parents' joy ; 
Like him I'll trv in all I do mv parents to obey, 
Like him to follow in the right and shun the wicked way. 

If I may never be as great a general as he, 
vSure I can be as good a man and that w^ill do for me ; 
This thing I know that I can do, to never tell a lie, 
Do what I think to be the right, and give the reason why. 

O, if I should grow up to be a strong and healthy man, 
Do what I will, I'll always try to do what good I can ; 
God then will bless me while I live each night and every 

day, 
Eveji prepare for me a home when I shall pass away. 



TRY TO LIFT THE CROSS. 



Should there ever a cross seem too heavy to bear. 

And you fear you are going to fall ; 
May some Simon be near vou to lighten vour care. 

One on \^^hom you may trustingly call. 



'*=)•' 



Where a duty and feelings united appear. 

Then the burden will easily rise ; 
But where duty calls loudly atteiided with fear. 

Raise that cross, for it points to the skies. 

Let the thought that the Saviour is near to vour side. 
Help you walk on the waves without fear ; 

Make His promise yours and His precepts your guide. 
Then 3^ou'll pass through this life with a cheer. 

It is not all of life, that we live here awhile. 

But a work we liave all got to do ; 
Jesus wept with the mourners, but never a smile 

Is recorded of Him we pursue. 



270 J\Irs. Barron's Poems. 

Yet I think it is well for to smile and be glad. 
For the flowers God has strown on our \vay ; 

For a sad heart will often make others as sad, 
vSo will cheerfulness chase grief awa} . 

May your cheerfulness ever be tempered with love. 

And your stay be the anchor ot^ hope ; 
While your faith lifts your heart to the vSaviour above, 

You may safely with courage look up. 



JESUS MY FRIEND, 



Jesus taught me how to pray, 
Pointed to the star of day ; 
Kindly led me on the way. 
Where to meet my God. 

Gave me grace and made me bold. 
Beauties new did He unfold ; 
All looked new although quite old, 
Cause all new to me. 

Thus for many years ni}' guide, 
Ever near me by m}' side ; 
Heavenly manna did provide. 
Good as angel's fare. 

Much more favors needing yet. 
May I never once forget ; 
I must ask if I would get 
Fresh supplies each day. 

Father, who in Heaven art, 
I would praise Thee from my heart ; 
Heavenly grace wilt Thou impart. 
And' Thy will be done. 

May the earth be made to be 
Pure as Heaven and blest of Thee ; 
As each morn the light I see, 
Give me daily bread. 



Welco7'f?e To Baby. 2^1 

Fo: mv sins, oh, pardon give 
Grace, while otiiers I forgive ; 
All temptations I would strive, 
Help me, Lord, to shun. 

Thine the kingdom, Thine the power. 
May Thy blessings on earth shower ; 
Thine the glorv as before. 
Hence fore\ ermore. 



AN iVCROSTIC, 



And has thy little sister gone. 
Bid eai"th adieu, left thee to mourn ; 
Is she no more to smile with thee. 
Gone from this earth her soul set free. 

A little cherub praising God, 
I trust she is. l^v His own word. 
Let little children come, said He. 
Behold in heaven their angels be. 

Hence she no more will sutier pain. 
Unmingled pleasures are her gain ; 
The Lord a mansion did provide, 
Christ too for little children died. 

Hence may you learn to serve the Lord. 
In Him confide, obev His word ; 
Nor weep that she has gone to rest. 
vSince throutjfh His merits she is blest. 



WELCOME TO BABY. 



Welcome, sweet innocence. 

Welcome to me ; 
Here in my bosom. 

Is room left for thee. 



2^2 Mrs. Barrofi's Poc??is. 

Here I will shield thee. 

And keep thee from harm ; 
Drink from this fountain, 

'Twill nourish and warm. 

Dear little innocence. 

Pure as the snow. 
Blessing your parents 

Each day as you "row. 

Watching- to see 

The tirst smile that vou show 
vSoon shaking the rattle 

And learning- to crow. 



SONG OF PRAISE 



I praise Thy name. Father in Heaven 
For many mercies Thou hast given ; 
Hast kept me safely through the night. 
Opened mine eves to see the light. 

My sleeping hours too Thou has blest. 
My weary limbs hast given rest ; 
Such soothing pillows for my head. 
And warm and comfortable bed. 

I wake in tolerable health. 

Worth more to me than Cro?sus' wealth ; 

Give me a heart to follow Thee, 

In all that's good, oh, lead Thou me. 

Oh, give me wisdom from on high. 
Wisdom that guideth to the sky ; 
Wisdom to walk the narrow way. 
So I grow better day by da}'. 

As Fhave lived for many vears. 
Have shed for sorrow many tears : 
Have often suffered too from pain. 
And vet I live, I still remain. 



Death of a You7ig Friend. 273 

Oh, may I know the reason why, 
Long time ago I did not die ; 
Is there some duty unfulfilled, 
That I am spared to do Thy will? 

Open mine eves that I ma\- see. 
What else Thou dost require of me ; 
What duty yet remains undone. 
That I must do beneath the sun? 



DEATH OF A YOUNG FRIEND 



We are feeling sad to-day. 
For a friend has passed away ; 
She no more w^ith us will meet. 
With her cordial, lovino- g-reet. 



■b) is' 



Once her pleasant cheerful face, 
Filled her well appointed place ; 
Always radiant was her look. 
As she handed out a book. 

She no more will join us now, 
When before God's throne we bow ; 
Asking Him to guide our ways. 
Neither join us in our praise. 

Those who prized her most on earth, 
Knew her talents, knew her worth ; 
Whose affection she has won. 
Sadly for her loss will mourn. 

She has gone, as I have said. 
Sleeping in her silent bed ; 
Faith has seen her spirit rise, 
God has called her to the skies. 

On the Sabbath, when we meet. 
We shall see her vacant seat ; 
But at home her empty chair. 
Oh, how they must miss her there. 



2 7 J. M7's. Barron'' s Poems. 

IT IS WELL. 



It is well with the mother, 

It is mvqW \\\t\\ the child, 

And it also with father is well. 

It was loaned them t') love, 

And to care for awhile. 

Now has gone to its father above. 

Yes, her spirit it left 

Here its frail house of clav. 

That is cared for and borne from our sight ; 

But her spirit has gone 

To lier bright home of day 

For to dwell w'ith the angels of light. 



DEATH OF TWO BROTHERS. 



What a gloom now is felt, like the stillness of night. 
And how dreary the home of the parents bereft 

Of two dear little children, once playful and bright. 
Naught of pleasure alas, in that circle is left. 

Like tender young buds rudely plucked from the stem. 

Ere the leaves in full beaut}^ unfolded to blight ; 
Those lovely young treasures more precious than gems. 

Were snatched from theirbosoms and hid from their sight. 

Oh, ye parents who feel that your loss is severe. 
And the wound so deep that it cannot be healed ; 

Yet the hand that inflicted you ought to revere. 

Since His love and His mercy to man are revealed. 

Our Saviour to children His arms did extend. 

Saying, do not forbid them to come unto Me ; 
My Father in heaven is always their friend. 

And their ang-els His face do eternally see. 



Words of a Little Girl to her Uncle. ■ 275 

They were loaned for a while and the time has expired, 
The summons was sent and they surely must go ; 

In heaven methinks they are tuning their lyres, 

And where sickness and sorrow thev neyer will know. 



A BRIGHT SPOT IN MY OLD AGE. 



'Twas not a mirage that I saw to-day. 

But an oasis I found on mv way ; 

The fields were green, the flow^ers were looking bright. 

The springs were sparkling, beautiful as light. 

Some little children came to yisit me, 
I'm growing old and have no child you see ; 
They looked so cheerful and so happy they. 
It seemed to me a most auspicious day. 

I took a retrospective view of life, 
My journey looked w ith many changes rife ; 
The milestones I had passed were sixty-eight. 
The day declininsf looked as «-rowinof late. 



WORDS OF A LITTLE GIRL TO 
HER UNCLE. 



Your a little flutter-budget. 

So her uncle said ; 
I should think it nearly time for 
"You to go to bed. 

Do not call me flutter-budget. 

That is not a name ; 
I think something else is better. 

Than to say that same. 

Then if it is not a name, sav 

What is it, my dear? 
Well, I know 'tis not a name, l)ut 

Only an idea. 



276 Afrs. Bar 7' Oil's Poems. 

AN ACROSTIC. 



Calm be her rest and sweet lier sleep, 
Her eyes no more from sorrow weep ; 
Although her friends now mourn her loss. 
Remembering- what she is and was. 

Let faith behold her spirit rise 
On wings of lo\e beyond the skies ; 
The Lord reyealed His soyereign grace, 
To her displayed His smiling face. 

E'en death he stripped of all its gIot)m, 
So she could triumph o'er the tomb. 
Merciful Father, was her last prayer, 
I commend my spirit to Thy care. 

Though in the tomb her body rests. 
Her soul we trust in God is blest. 



LITTLE PETS. 



May sorrow neyer cloud \'Our bro\y. 
Look happy alwa}'s child as now ; 
And when no more my face you see. 
Dear Annie please remember me. 

Child's pleasant smiles like sunbeams are. 
They light my path which else were drear ; 
When I know more can look on thee. 
Dear Katie kindly think of me. 



THOUGHTS ON A SICK-BED, 



My friends, I soon must bid farewell 
To all things here below ; 

May God prepare m\ soul to dwell, 
Where He His face will show. 



Onward. 277 

When time shall cease to be with us. 

Our troubles all are o'er, 
Alay He permit us with the just 

To meet, to part no more. 

Our lives are like the morning dew. 

That flies- before the sun ; 
Man's days at most will count but few. 

Soon numbered and they're done. 

What is mv strength, that I should guess 

I long may linger here? 
What is my life, that I should wish 

It lengthened out one year? 

My strength is like the new mown grass. 

That withers in the sun ; 
My life is like an hour-glass. 

Its sands are nearly run. 

T.ord, grant me faith that works by love. 

To purify my heart ; 
And fit me for Thy courts above, 

When I shall hence depart. 

Oh, mav Thy spirit cheer my path. 

As through death's vale I go ; 
Then I'll rejoice to part with earth. 

Its pleasures and its woes. 



ONWARD. 



Though spring is gone by with its music and beauty. 

And summer, the season of roses, is past ; 
We'll care not for that, but attend to our duty. 

For neither will childhood and school always last. 

The trees that in spring with their blossoms looked gaily 
In autumn are laden witii fruit tit for food ; 

If all but endeavor to learn something daily. 
In autumn of life they can do and be good. 



2^8 Mrs. Barroji's Poe?ns. 

Our parents and friends have improved our condition, 
Our room have enhirged and made pleasant as new ; 

And we in return without vvillin<j^ omission. 
Will strive to obey and improve by it too. 

Our teachers we'll have them tor our standard bearers. 
Where they shall direct, we will -willingly go ; 

For they of our happiness too are the sharers, 

W^hat others have done we can do that we know. 

Now ignorance, idleness hence shall be driven, 
Such conquests shall make us deservedly free ; 

Our standard of action we'll point it to Heaven, 
And onward and upward our motto shall be. 



THERE IS A HAPPY LAND. 



Where is there now a happv land more than is our own? 
Here we all are a merry band it can but be known ; 
In New England we breathe the air of lilierty. 
Minds and bodies free. 
Here all as one. 

Here we all can learn to read, all can learn to write. 
Our teachers kind are well agreed, teach us what is right ; 
We will all agree what our teachers wish shall be, 
And will willingly 
Strive to obey. 

We are fed and clothed warm, parents too are kind, 
Are not exposed to vice or harm as naughty children find ; 
Who do not obev what their friends or parents say, 
Idlino; their time awav. 
Staving from school. 

All o-reat men our teachers sav once as small in size, 
Loved to studv more than play that made them wise ; 
We will study too. what is right we'll aim to do, 
When Vv'e grow up too. 
We may be wise. 



Good and III. 279 

TEMPERANCE SONG. 



Come ye noble sons of freedom, 
Free from wine's destructive sway ; 

Let us form one solid phalanx, 
Drive King Alcohol awav. 

' Let our weapons bv discretion. 
Be of moral suasion made ; 
Ensio;ns' floatinu;. lives devotino-. 
God will surely ofive us aid. 

See advances, with sparkling glances. 

Bands of temperance, daughters fair ; 
With such allies make bold sallies. 

They the shield for us will bear. 

Kill the hydra-headed monster, 

With the sword apply the brand ; 
Do not cavil, face the evil. 

Drive intemperance from the land. 

' Give the feeble hope and courage. 
Hope to be again a man ; 
Thankful hearts our cause will bless, 
God will praise for all the rest. 

Cho. — 

Praise Him, praise Him, ye sons of temperance, praise I 
Praise Him, praise Him. ye sons of temperance, praise I 
Hosanna ! Hosanna I Hosanna ! 



GOOD AND ILL. 



This life is like the ocean wide, 
Our hopes and fears are like the tide. 

That ebbs and flows alternately ; 
Youth launches forth his untried barque, 
Nor fears the tempest or the dark, 

L'nfurls his sails couragfeously. 



28o Mrs. Baj'ron^s Poems. 

I wish I could with all my heart, 
Hcl:l lip to view, as on a chart, 

''YV.'Z many dangerous shoals of life ; 
Nor V. ould I paint with lesser care, 
yhe much of good which all may share. 

The o;ood with which this world is rife. 

Life is made up of good and ill. 
Some have the fortune for to fill 

Their cup with good, it so appears ; 
While others have theirs filled- with woe. 
Filled to the brim to overflow 

With trouble, poverty and tears. 

Yet happiness without alloy, 
Fills no man's cup nor perfect joy 

That brings a smile, as oft appears ; 
While in the breast of seeming woe, 
There may be joys which overflow, 

By breaking up the fount of tears. 



PUBLIC PRAYER. 

When public prayer is fashion. 
With hypocritic face on, 
How many will go there. 
To hear or lead in prayer. 

Not in the wdiirlwind's noise, 
Nor where the fire destroys, 
God's presence may be ^een. 
And no where else I ween. 

But there are other places. 
Where He bestows His graces ; 
When faith, hope, love and zeal, 
The humble soul shall feel. 

His great Almighty power, 
Seen, felt, in silent showers ; 
Heard in the still small voice. 
Makes humble souls rejoice. 



The Closet. 281 

TASTE NOT THE WINE. 



Taste not the wine, taste not the wine. 
When it is red, thongh its made from the vine ; 
Mail}' the wines which the chemist has made. 
'E^leasant the flavor and perfect the shade ; 
When you would (h'ink it and think it is right, 
Mind, h'kc the serpent as fatal its bite. 

Taste not the wine, taste not the wine. 
Look not on wine, touch not the wine ; 
Taste not the wine, taste not the wine. 
When it is red, taste not the wine ; 
Taste not the wine, taste not the wine. 
Taste not the wine, taste not tlie wine. 

Taste not the wine, taste not the wine. 
When it is red, for it ruins the mind ; 
Minds that are noble and intellects great. 
Fit to command in the held or the state ; 
Down to a level it readily brings. 
Low as the slave, the commander or king. 
Taste not the wine, etc. 

Taste not the wine, taste not the wine. 
When it is red, then O taste not the wine ; 
Evils like mountains if broken will rise, 
-Eyes filled with tears and the bosoms with sighs ; 
When to your lips the bright goblets you bring, 
Mind like the adder its venomous sting. 
Taste not the wine, etc. 



THE CLOSET. 



My closet is my altar. 
Where faith ought never falter ; 
For God is always there. 
To hear and answer prayer. 



282 Mrs. Barron's Poems. 

When I to Him draw near. 
He banishes my fear ; 
He buo3'S my spirits up, 
And stays iny anchor, hope. 

On some still barren mountain, 
Or near some lonely fountain. 
Was Jesus wont to prav. 
At the approach of day. 

Or, in some silent hour. 
Perhaps some garden bower, 
He might resort to pra}'. 
Just at the close of day. 



THE YOUNG HICKORY. 



i\ beautiful tree of the hickory kind. 

Has grown among hills in a northerly clime ; 

It is sound from the heart if you scan it you'll see, 

Not a parasite lives on that hickory tree. 

It is straight as a gun and with foliage is crowned. 
No lodging place in it for coons can be found ; 
And I am persuaded by what we can see, 
It has grown from a germ of the hickory tree. 

Its merits are known and the call has gone forth. 
To the east, to the west, to the south, to the north, 
That all with a will may unite if they choose, 
And shelter beneath it and safely repose. 

The banner's unfurled, come ye patriots join. 
Unite in one phalanx in unbroken line ; 
You need not log cabins to coax you to come. 
Nor need you the music of bugle or drum. 

You have only to know that our own ship of state. 
Will be guided by one who is wise, good and great ; 
Such a man is Frank Pierce for the head we will bring. 
For his mate if you please we'll have William R. King. 



The ]\h(zzle. 28;^ 

A DUTIFUL SON. 

Is there anything more beautiful, when a nian has lost his 

mind. 
To see a son so dutiful, so patient and so kind ; 
When walking in the street of late, an old man passed 

me bv. 
His body was erect as youth, but looking at his eyes 
I saw the fire was going out. his journey's end seemed nigh, 
I asked him of his hopes or fears, he ansvyered with a 

JSIy mind is gone, m\' health is good, nn food I relish. 

life with me 
I cherish still, and cling like one still tighting \yith my 

destiny. 
.Sometimes he jests and one might think his reasoning 

powers were goed : 
The reason why I camiot tell, the future do not fear, 
\\ ith all my frailties bear tiiem still, I still would linger 

here : 
lie wandered 'roimd from street to street, no danger seemed 

to fear. 
His son goes with him where he goes, when stopping 

lingers near. 



THE MUZZLE. 



As I \yas out wali<.ing one late winter daw 

From a friend's, towards home, I was wending m\ \yay ; 

It was not yer\' light nor was yet yery dark. 

When I heard the known sound of a sayage hoarse bark. 

I looked for to see if could aught do me harm, 
When lo I a ""reat bull do"'. Si"ood cause for alarm. 
Was making his wa}' to the spot where I stood. 
As if quite determined to do me no good. 

As he bounded toward me increasing my fear, 
With a \\\\\ to deyour or to vyoimd he drew near ; 
WHien lo I and behold I had notliing to dread, 
For a muzzle was well fitted on to his head. 



284 Airs. Barron^s Poems. 

[ thought of the message I lately had read. 
Of our own City Mayor so much cause of dread ; 
To the venders of liquor he ought to have known, 
Thev are all doing well he should let them alone. 

But rumor says more tiian his message does tell, 
That his own Police OfHcers love it too well ; 
The venders I'll warrant have nothing to fear. 
For they all are well mu/zled, election draws near. 

I would not inquire what the> already know. 
They are sowing broadcast seeJs of miser\' and woe ; 
Nor need I to tell what tlvjv sometime mav dread. 
That the curse of the injured may fall on their head. 

That thcN- have a conscience, O what an idea. 

That could ever be moved bv a prayer or a tear : 

As well plead with Satan while entering the snake. 

Not to tem])t mother Eve. their's no conscience to wake. 

But one thing is certain there's nothing to fear. 
From our l)rave City Officers far oli or near ; 
'No fear from their barking nor dread from their ire. 
The muzzle makes harmless thou^'h made of fine \vire. 



ALPHABETICAL SONG, 



vSee us. though little childien n()\\-. 
We love to come to school ; 

And when we tell ^•ou what we learn. 
You'll say we are no fools. 

In order here we learn to sit. 
To count and read and spell ; 

And how the letters stand for words. 
Please hear and we will tell. 

A stands for Adam and for all, 
B stands for Billy Brown ; 

C stands for Charles and Carlos too, 
U stands for David Drown. 



Alphabetical So)ig\ 28 :; 

E stands for eagle ^ve can see 

On yonder dome so bright : 
And F It stands for Frank and fun. 

And also stands for fight. 

G stands for George and gingerbread, 

H. hand and head aild heart ; 
I stands for ignorance and ills. 

Which idleness imparts. 

J stands for Jane and James and John, 

K, kittie, Kate and kite ; 
L stands for lady and for love, 

M, morning, moon and might. 

X stands for names and night and ncjon. 

O for an ostrich stands ; 
Whose feathers are on bonnets worn. 

By ladies in our land. 

P standi for Folk, the President. 

Q^for the Qiieen of Spain : 
R stands for rules and for right. 

And also stands for rain. 

S stands for snow, which looks so wdiite 

On a cold winter day ; 
It stands for sun vyhich shines so bright. 

And melts the snow away. 

X stands for teacher, truth, 

U helps umbrella spell ; 
V stands for yillage, voice, 

And W for well. 

X stands for Xerxes, once the great. 

Y, youth which beauty won ; 
And Z for Zachariah stands. 

The father of St. John. 

We've learned to count one, two, three, four. 

Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten ; 
And many things to make us wise, 

When we grow up to men. 



286 Mrs. Barron''s Poems. 

And more we learn that God on hig-li 
Made all things which we see ; 

The skies, the stars, the beauteous earth 
And air we breathe so tree. 



THE DROUGHT. 



C). what a melanchoh' sight, 
When seeing vegetation blight ; 
As when autumnal frosts arrive. 
The verdant fields no more did thrive. 

The rippling streams had ceased to flow, 
The ga}' and beauteous flowers to grow ; 
The beasts that grazed on dale and hill, 
There roamed in vain, the^■ hungered still. 

Some fields of corn that promised w^ell. 
For want of moisture prostrate fell ; 
And every vegetable green. 
Showed how severe the drought had been. 

Some trees had shed their foliage too. 
And man^■ leaves retained but few ; 
Much fruit has withered, all can see, 
For want of moisture in the tree. 

Domestic springs supplied no more 
The wants of man as heretofore ; 
The cistern empty long remained. 
Because of no more falling rain. 

The heat oppressive did engage, 

To bring on premature old age ; 

Prostrated many a robust man, 

Though strong and healthy then grew wan. 

But whom the prophet did implore, 
And deigned to hear in days of yore ; 
Vouchsafed to show His gracious power. 
And sent us down refreshincr showers. 



A Little Chilcfs Death. 287 

Earth now begins to smile again. 
Shall man from gratitude refrain ; 
Ah. no, let praise ascend to heaven. 
For every mercy He has o-iven. 



THE STORY OF THE CROSS 



The story of the cross is one 

On which I love to dwell ; 
Though it be old and often told, 

'Tis always new to tell. 

The story that the Saviour died 

Upon the cursed tree ; 
That He has shed His precious blood. 

That He has died for me. 

If I a hope like this mav claim. 

An anchor it will be ; 
To guide me through this vale of tears. 

Through life's tempestuous sea. 

'Twill guide me to that haven wiiere 

The weary soul finds rest ; 
Where storms or tempests never reach, 

Nor doubts or fears oppress. 

There I shall sing the glor\' of 

The cross so dear to me : 
The song it will be ever new 

Throughout eternity. 



A LITTLE CHILD'S DEATH 



Although she's bid farewell. 

Left earth and all below ; 
Let heavenly grace dispel 

Each murmurino- thouoht you know 



zSS Mi's. JBarrofi's Poems. 

'Tis God who wounds the heart. 

He knows the g-rief you feel ; 
Express to Him the sin art, 

Xor doubt that He can Ileal. 

In Him you'll find a friend, 
And one that's eVer near. 

Peace to the soul He sends. 
All those who love Him here. 

Reyiyes the drooping mind. 

Knows what for us is best ; 
Eternal, just and kind, 

Reyeals Himself at last. 



A FAREWELL. 



As you progress on your journey. 
Through this life from day to day ; 

May your star of hope grow brighter 
Driye" all doubts and fears awaN'. 

Until \yith the Son of righteousness, 
Its rays shall blend above ; 

And where you shall see eternal day. 
No passion feel but love. 



DEATH OF 1857 AND BIRTH OF 1858 



Old Time has lost another son. 
His days are passed, his hours arc done 
'Tis midnight, and I hear the bell 
Proclaim his death, his Rmeral knell. 

Sad thoughts now flit across my mind. 
Reviewing scenes now left behind ; 
How many of a gloomy cast 
Haye happened in the year just passed. 



T^he Haveit of Hope. 289 

How many to their graves have rushed. 
How many princely fortunes crushed ; 
Whose liopes were bright a year ago, 
Are as the hopeless laid as low. 

But vvhv thus dwell on scenes gone by ? 
For what is passed v^^e need not sigh ; 
The clock has struck the year's last knell, 
Then we should willing say, farewell. 

The clock strikes one, what do I hear? 
It tells us of a new born \ear ; 
Though time's last only son is dead. 
Another liveth in his stead. 

May every face put on a cheer 
To welcome in this new born vear ; 
And every mind while this shall last, 
Show wisdom treasured from the past. 

Though Time has long been old and gray, 
He would not have us sad but gay ; • 
So all my friends with heartfelt cheer, 
I greet you with a happy vear. 



TFIE HAVEN OF HOPE. 



There is in Heaven a hope there is, 

A great physician there ; 
He know^s the sorrow stricken soul, 

Such patients treats with care. 

The wound wdien too deep cannot be cured 

By any human skill ; 
The great physician He can heal. 

But trust Him and He will. 

As seamen trim their sails at nig'iit. 

Wait patiently for da\- ; 
So we must do with all our might, 

Our duties on our way. 



2QO Mrs. Barro7i's Poems. 

The ship when driven by the wind, 
. On angry billows tossed ; 
Did not the anchor hold it fast. 
The crew and all were lost. 

So faith the cable holding strong. 

The anchor hope secure ; 
And if the cable does not break. 

Safe haven will be sure. 

Look through the dark on yonder shore, 
God keeps a burning light ; 

Our loved ones there help trim the lamp. 
And keep it shining bright. 

When we at last outride the storm. 
Steer safely toward that shore ; 

Eternal day dispel the night, 
We'll need a lamp no more. 

Those we have loved will greet us there, 
On that bright shining shore ; 

And what a glorious union be. 
To meet and part no more. 



AN ACROSTIC, 



Creator of all things on high, 
How great and good Thy Majesty ! 
Low^ in Thv presence we should bow. 
Oh, condescend to hear us now. 

Eternal are Thv mercies. Lord, 
Mav we not hope that in Thy word, 
Comforting promises are given, 
Desig-ned to lead our soul to Heaven. 

As w^e through Christ approach Thy throne, 
Vouchsafe our cause to bless and ow^n ; 
If Thou wilt for our wants provide. 
Sure we shall need no more beside. 



Pa7'ewen Winiey. 201 

ENCOURAGEMENT TO COME 
TO CHRIST. 



O ye who feel your guilt so great. 
Dare not approach the mercy seat ; 
Who cannot see the throne of grace. 
The Saviour calls and thus He says 

Come unto Me, obey My voice, 
ril inake your moiu-ning heart rejoice ; 
Come, lay your Ijurclen at My feet. 
And you shall hnd your joy complete. 

Believe My word, and you shall find 
That I am merciful and kind ; 
No evil shall your path beset, 
I will your former sins forget. 



AN EPITAPH, 



When trouble filled my breast with grief, 

Thy presence alw^ays gave relief; 

But now thy voice no more I hear. 

Thy smiles have ceased, no more can cheer ; 

Thy spirit now has fled away. 

And sorrow^ shades my brio^htest day. 



FAREWELL WINTER, 



Farewell winter, cold and dreary, 
Surely thou hast been severe ;' 

Of thy presence we are weary, 
Glad to find that spring is liere. 

At thy presence nature passive, 
Yielded to thy cold embrace ; 

And thy mantle's weight oppressive. 
Hid from view her lovely face. 



292 Mi's Barrofi's Poems. 

Human nature shrunk before thee, 
Nor thy conquest could defeat ; 

Thou didst prostrate health and beauty, 
Causing many a friend to weep. 

Many a lovely form has wasted, 
Many a rosy cheek grown pale ; 

Manv to their graves have hasted, 
And have passed the gloomy vale. 

Welcome vernal suns and showers, 
And ye balmy winds we hail ; 

Welcome verdure, welcome flowers, 
You to cheer us never fail. 

And ye feathered songsters, welcome. 
We your presence gladly greet ; 

Better music hear we seldom, 
Few indeed are sonos so sweet. 



THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE 
GOOD AND THE BAD. 



Beings of intellect and life, • 

While in their youth and prime ; 

By accident may take the path 
Of o-lorv or of crime. 



*=> 



The barque of fate on time's vast sea, 
If skilful hands shall guide ; 

They may outlive its many storms, 
Nor feel the adverse tide. 

Patience must guide the helm witli skill, 

Prudence unfind the sail ; 
While perseverance swells the breeze. 

But never to a gale. 



TJie Difference between the Good and Bad. 293 

Hope is the anchor that sustains 

The soul when troubles lave ; 
And faith buoys up the sinking mind 

To walk upon the wave. 

The laws of God must be obeyed. 

While industry and skill. 
The house for ripe old age will rear, 

With plentv, too, will fill. 

Like as the corn in spring a germ. 

In summer rank and green. 
And in the autumn full and ripe. 

Is harvested and clean. 

So in the end, the good old man, 

In works and grace has grown. 
With patience waits to be transferred 

From earth to heaven his home. 

Were he a patriot, his name 

Among the statesmen shine ; 
Were he a clergyman, his name 

Will live as a divine. 

Whatever was his work in life 

If to do good his aim, « 

Posterity will not forget. 

But even bless his name. 

But he who on the raging waves 

Of life shall heedless start ; 
Without a compass or a helm, 

Nor mindeth wisdom's chart. 

Unfurls his sails before the wind. 

Nor sees the buoy and rock ; 
May learn too late there's no retreat. 

He feels the fatal shock. 

His keel is broken hopelessly. 

His hulk no power can save ; 
His anchor, chart, and compass too. 

All sink beneath the wave. 



294 Mrs. Bar roll's Poems. 

His mortal frame wrecked by disease, 
No earthly power can save ; 

The haven which he thous^ht to find 
Is but an earh" grave. 

He leaves no hallowed name behind, 
His acts the virtuous hate ; 

All youth should aim such life to shun, 
And not to imitate. 



THE WELL OF SALVATION, 



Come, come to the fountain whose waters are pure. 
Fear not there is plenty, 'twill ever endure ; 
The cup you may drink from is worth more than gold. 
It never will tarnish, will never grow old. 



t>' 



All, all who have tasted those waters agree 
In bidding you welcome, because they are free ; 
They are good for the soul that rejoices in God, 
They are good for the sinner that smarts from the rod. 

It is fed from a spring that has never been dry, 
Its source is from Heaven's exhaustless supply ; 
Then come to the fountain. Oh come while you may. 
Come drink that you faint not through life's dreary way. 

Do you ask for the name ot that crystalline fount .^ 
'Tis the well of salvation on Calvary's mount ; 
To all who partake the assurance is given, 
Of faith and the hope that their home is in Hea\en. 

'Tis a voice from on high that has given the call. 
Come, echo the sound, to your friends and to all ; 
And when life is ended and troubles are o'er, 
We may oo to the source where we'll thirst never more. 

Our robes dipped in glory which God shall approve, 
Our souls there will bask in His sunshine of love ; 
There day is eternal, no night shall we know, 
Come friends, one and all, will you go, will you go .^ 



Letter to Kendall Wright. 295 

Methinks I now hear you respond to the call. 
Dear brothers and sisters and neighbors, ye all ; 
Wives, husbands and children and parents if so. 
Come now while you may, will you cro, will you go? 



AN ACROSTIC. 



Most pleasant hours we two have spent. 
All through the winter cold and lent ; 
Recording thoughts coined long ago. 
Yet some more recent dates will show. 

As on life's ioiu'uey you proceed. 
Draw happy thoughts on whicli to feed ; 
Each retrospective view you take. 
Let this the picture help to make. 

As pleasant shades may blend between. 
If all the bright hues mix with green, 
Do not forget wlien I am gone. 
Ever kind wishes \-ou have won. 

Do what vou ma} . go where vou will, 
Each dav while memor\ last may still 
A place within your bosom be, 
Not quite too full to think of me. 



LETTER TO KENDx\LL WRIGHT. 



I know not vour face thou^fh I've heard of \our name, 
And were I but in a poetical frame, 

I would tell you some news with its wherefore and why, 
About what did occur on the Fourth of July. 

For the want of ideas my cranium void. 
Were it not for your sister I'd not be emplo}ed ; 
To write to one absent who ne'er wrote to me, 
Of course one who cares not mv scribbling to see. 



2C 



96 Mi's. Barron's Poems. 



But to gratify her to my task I'll proceed. 
And tell \ou what now seeins to have been decreed ; 
You perhaps recollect the white house and green blinds. 
That which II. had so vi\idly fixed in her mind. 

vShe savs she has told you that in her mind's eye. 
vShe has seen a tall m^in with lio^ht hair and blue eye ; 
But she now knows her fate and her cake is all dough, 
Though the phrase may seem vulgar you'll find it is so. 

Though she beat well the liush as 1 lately have heard, 
Her sister though younger is catching the bird ; 
And if for herself no one else has been made. 
Then as fortune will have it she'll be an old maid. 

On the Fourth of July all was joyful and gay. 
All seemed to esteem it our country's birth-day ; 
And many did celebrate, lasses and lads. 
But P. with her sweetheart went home to her dad's. 

If truth has been told which I doubt not all, 

The tall man has made her a number of calls ; 

If diseases are known by their symptoms as said, 

I should not be surprised if he sometime should wed. 

If P. were aware I am writing to you, 
I suppose she'd deny it and call it not true ; 
If for this I in future am called by name, 
On to W. and Mrs. W. I'll lay all the blame. 

For if they had not told me they wished me to write. 

I should never had made an attempt to indite ; 

So tell your dear mother that H. is to blame. 

If she thinks I've done wrong in inscribing P's name. 

A widower near I think H. has in view. 

And it may all be so, but it may not be true ; 

I tell her if she don't get on her cap right, 

I shall rival myself and her prospects shall blight. 

But she fears not my threats nor does she seem much 

alarmed 
At my prospects as rival to do any harm ; 
But sir, do you not think should I write him a line. 
Composed of sound logic and thoughts as sublime 



A Huinan Teneme^it. 397 

As this scrawl is composed of, would be not believe 
I possessed some fine talents, tbough be be deceived? 
But I care not for tbat since vou see I'm afraid 
To be called by the name of, what? why, an old maid. 

I suppose you'll be glad, sir, to find soon an end. 
So I close with regards to yourself and your friends ; 
With requests vou excuse what my gossiping tells. 
And. dear sir. for the present I bid vou farewell. 



A HUMAN TENEMENT. 



I saw a noble tenement erect, 
Made by the Great Almighty Architect ; 
Its every part was made so strong and well. 
Within, the spirit of a man did dwell. 

It needed some repairs from day to day, 
Materials were alwavs in the way ; 
Prepared by Him who made the whole with care. 
The tenant onlv need to make repair. 

When e'er he ceased such duties to fulfill. 
And disobeyed the Almighty Maker's will ; 
The spirit suffered with the structure too. 
As all who disobev God's laws must do. 

When e'er the lungs inhaled unwholesome air. 
The contact soon those organs would impair ; 
The stomach wdien partook unwholesome food. 
The heart .but ill the consequence withstood. 

The fiuids which by these should be made pure 
Became unhealthy as God's la\vs are sure ; 
The arteries conveyed tliat current 'round, 
lentil disease in every part was found. 

The muscles thev ere long began to feel 
More like the drooping willow than to steel ; 
The nervous system soon began to find 
A svmpathy and that effect the mind. 



29S Afrs. Bari'ofi's Poeni^. 

The ear grew deaf, no sound was heard within. 
No light was felt because the eyes were dim ; 
All that could make that spirit life enjoy, 
All now was burdensome all now" annoy. 

Gladly at last that spirit quit its home. 

Left it to moulder back to earth alone ; 

Soared tar beyond those stars that shine so bright, 

To find a home in everlasting light. 

Now in the heavens it roams away so far. 
That to its view this earth is but a star ; 
Yet with a spirit's telescopic e}'e, 
Ma}' he not view the scenes now passing bv. 

Now if his vision may extend so far, 
As to behold the scenes on this small star ; 
How vast that mind unfettered now b\' clav. 
Beholds new scenes in one perpetual day. 

Music unearthly does not tire the mind, 
Angels and saints in concert all combined ; 
Heaven has no shades like earth to make it nisfht, 
For God's own glorv is eternal light. 

O, thou my spirit tenant of this clav, 
When thou art done with earth soar thou away ; 
Borne by some kindred spirit, heavenly dove, 
To join that choir and sing redeeming love. 



OBEDIENCE TO LAWS. 



I go for strict obedience 

To all good wholesome laws ; 

The constitution as it is. 
And union as it was. 

Fight then, if fight ye must, ye braves. 

To win that boon ye die ; 
I'll bless you while I live, and God 

Will bless you from on hio-h. 



Letter to an Old Neighbor. 399 

I never shall expect to see 

Your face, or voice to hear ; 
But should I learn for this vou fall. 

Your memorv I'll revere. 



SOLILOQUY. 



Soon this mortal flesh shall be 

Food for worms beneath the clod ; 

Will my soul, when thus set free. 
Dwell forever with mv God? 

O my soul, art thou deceived? 

Must thou give thy hope avvav ? 
Hast thou not on Christ believed, 

Who's declared Himself the way. 



LETTER TO AN OLD NEIGHBOR, 



Here I sit mj'self down all alone this old widder. 
To write a few lines to my friends far awav ; 

And did I not think you were real friends, Kidder, 
I should not ha\e courage to write vou this day. 

But friends I have tried and have cherished so dearlv, 
Those trustworthy friends both in word and in deed ; 

When I asked you a question ^ ou answered me cheerlv 
A cjuestion improper or question of need. 

I suppose that the friends you have left here behind you. 
Keep you posted concerning the news of the day ; 

So I don't suppose news if I write aught will find you 
At all uninformed, though vou live far away. 

My neighbors are kind, all without an exception. 
All treat me as kindl}' as I could desire ; 

With little unpleasant to cause me dejection, 

I have much to be thankful for. much to admire. 



'^oo Mrs. Barron^s Poems, 

There Hot very many but sometimes find crosses. 

That seem quite too heavy to raise from the ground ; 

But thanks be to God He provides us a Simon, 

In whose aid and whose charity help can l)e found. 

My neighbors and friends call in often to see me. 
My niece, Mrs. B.. and her husband and child 

^'esterdav came to see me, we had a nice visit. 
Little Henry was ufood as could be all the while. 



A PET CAT. 



Dear Billy is dead, that clever cat. 

His troubles now are o'er ; 
He cannot catch the mice and rats. 

As he has done before. 

No more he'll sing his fine duet. 
With Kitty vSpot, mee-ow ; 

No other cats can sing so well, 
I think they don't know how. 

If was not for want of milk or meat. 

That Billy came to die : 
But he was sick like other cats. 

That was the reason why. 

'Twill do no good to call for him. 
He wont come back I know ; 

For he has gone to pussy land. 
Where all good kitties go. 



FLOWER GIRLS. 



Nice young ladies, good they are. 
Misses vStetson, Lane and Thayer; 
Heaven will bless them that I know, 
For the kind hearts that they show. 



Death of Little Nelly. 301 

Whv tlieii fail to trust in God, 
For the promise of His word ; 
Angels He has sent this day. 
Ay, to lio-hten up mv way. 

Need I fear the^ future then, 

Since I find so manv friends ; 

He who made tliose fragrant Howers. 

Only He can fill the bowers. 

With such beauty only He. 
Emblems of such purity ; 
He alone inspires the heart, 
Deeds of kindness to impart. 



DEATH OF LITTLE NELLY 



Chosen of God to pass away 
From earth to realms of endless da\' ; 
No more to sufter but to rest 
Among the happ\' always blest. 

When I haye seen that loyely child, 
I thought her extra good and mild ; 
T little thought that I should stay, 
I'ill she, that loyed one, passed away 

Why is it so. the young must die, 
And leaye the old behind to sigh ; 
To sigh that life is not yet done. 
No immortality begim. 

It is so and God willed it so. 
That loying children hence must go ; 
Their days here measure but a span. 
Ere they are called to spirit land. 

Their angel spirits linger near. 
To comfort those remaining here ; 
It wont be very long till we 
Shall join them in eternity. 



302 Mrs. Barron^s Poems. 

DEATH OF AN INFANT SON 



Parents, though the wcniiul vou feel. 
Seems too deep for man to heal ; 
(jod has willed your child should die 
vShould we ask the reason why? 

When your darling called vou nigh. 
Smiled, and sung his by low bve ; 
Were not then the notes he sung 
Heavenly music here begun? 

Though your loved one is not here. 
Now in your celestial sphere. 
He's a glorious clierubim ; 
Weep not then, weep not for him. 

Though God called one hned before. 
He'd a right to call for more ; 
Yet, do not His works all tell. 
That ''He doeth all thinofs well." 



THE GRANITE STATE, 



Oh, say not of New Hampshire, 
That she dedecorates 

The New England confederation : 
Her sons are among those. 
Acknowledged as orreat. 

Even greatest, now known in the nation, 

Perfidious peregrines, 
Though they do stigmatize, 

And eofregfiouslv esfotize also ; 
And though some pettifoggers, 
In retailing lies. 

Do with phantasm pique to re-echo. 



The Constitution a)id Flag of 07n' C^nion. 303 

Their assertions ai'e invalid. 
Vain, postulation. 

For in science and arts, her position 
Is equal to any state. 
Now in the nation, 

Her morals exceed in precision. 

Nor can there be found. 
Braver men in the land. 

Than are found 'mong her patriotic statesmen ; 
Her democracy are. 
An inviolate band, 

L nfoiled b\ vain dissimuhition. 

Their fathers were \ aliant. 
And fouii4it with their mi^rht. 

For the cause of their country and freedom ; 
They would rise in one phalanx. 
If now called to fio-ht. 

To repulse any foreign invasion. 



THE CONSTITUTION AND FLAG OF 
OUR UNION. 



Once the goddess of liberty came from above, 
With a plant in her hand, as a pledge of her love ; 
To the patriots only she trusted the care. 
For to foster and nurse it and fruits of it share. 

By those patriots care, it has flourished and grow^n. 
And the shade it aflbrds us our country has shown ; 
From the east to the west where its branches are spread, 
From the north to the south is its influence shed. 

Curse, cin^sed the hand that the first l)low shall aim, 
For to lop ofl' its branches, its beauty to maim ; 
Ere the liand shall inflict such a wound would show. 
Be it petrified, palsied or leprous as snow. 



304 Mrs Bar7'o??\s Poems. 

The fanatic and fire-eaters seem to agree, 

That thev like not the shade of this Hbertv tree ; 

Like the mice in the fable, some black and some white. 

Though their teeth are but small, each can nibble a mite. 

One can scarcely believe that such a man can be found. 
But it is true, they are trying to cut the tree down ; 
They are patriots still that can bind up the wound, 
It will flourish and bear fruit, its heart still is sound. 

Peace, vea peace to the ashes of those who unfurled 
First the stars and the stripes to tlie \iew of the world; 
And yet thrice be the curse on the head that would mar 
Its beauty, proportion, or blot out a star. 

What aIthoui>"h on some branches of liberty's tree. 
That there may be some leaves all are sorry to see ; 
Which are blig-hted or mildewed and seem not so fair. 
Yet the tree still will l^ear fiuit if nourished with care. 

And what though on some stars some dark spots may be 

seen , 
Was there ever perfection in ^vhat there lias been? 
So the Queen of the night has dark spots on her face, 
And vet, who. who would ask her to hide in disgrace. 

And the sun in tlie heavens, perfectiori of light, 
He has spots on his face too as dark as the night ; 
And as soon would I ask him to xeil his liris'ht face. 
As to cut down this tree or this l^amier disgrace. 

Then come rally your forces ye sons of the ])rave. 
Be the whole of the imion your motto to save ; 
Know no north and no soutli, and no east and no west. 
Like your fathers, the nation yoiu" memory shall bless. 

Build a wall all around and sufficiently higli. 
On the tower in the midst, point the spire to the sk> ; 
Place an impartial watchman whose keen eye can scan 
The whole land as a small farm. I^uchanan's man. 

He may need an assistant to sit by his side. 
That should he be disabled, can wisely preside ; 
The ship of vState honorably lielp guide with skill. 
And if any man can do it, Breckinridge will. 



Benjamin Franklin Taming the Lightning. 305 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN TAMING 
THE LIGTHNING. 



Neptune had sent his chariot hig-h 
Which passed between the earth and skv ; 
Naught could approach it from behind. 
Because the steeds were made of wind. 

The lightning took possession there. 
And hurled his missiles through the air ; 
Proclaimed in thunder tones his wortli. 
And shot liis fiery darts to earth. 

All nature shrank when he appeared, 
Mankind had no defense and feared ; 
No lasso strong. enough to find, 
To make attempt was found no mind. 

And when he chose his miglit\" power 
Was seen and felt at any hour ; 
Made homes of many desolate. 
With no redress early or late. 

In later days, a wiser mind 
Assumed his secret power to find ; 
To coax him ere he was aware 
He sent a kite up in the air. 

That he might carefully be led. 
The power that held it but a thread ; 
Pre]Dared to greet him was the sage. 
And slyly caught him in a cage. 

His power not conquered soon was found. 
He threw his captor on the ground ; 
Not kill him, when the shock was o'er. 
He had more courage than before. 

Then Franklin, with wisdom and skill. 
Made him subser\'ient to his \yill ; 
And having tamed him when confined 
He educated to his mind. 



3o6 ^fi's. Barron's Poe7iis. 

In every branch not perfect quite. 
But Morse he taught him how to write ; 
So at a (h'stance one can send 
In liaste a message to a friend. 

He helps the sick rise from their bed. 
And brings to hfe some seeming dead ; 
Can fire a cannon any (hiv. 
Though stationed thousand miles awav. 

Others ha\e made him useful too, 
And, taught him many things to do ; 
He has the power \viien guided riglit 
To make the darkest city liglit. 

So much like daybreak in the spring. 
The birds awake and gaily sing ; 
He sends the news so far away. 
Night may be here, where he is, day. 

With other things among the rest. 
He daily feeds the hungry press ; 
If aught is worthy they can find. 
Distribute for the huncrry mind. 

Franklin from pla\ ing with a kite. 
Has guided man}' minds to light ; 
Helped ignorance to dissipate, 
And greater minds to grow more great. 

'Tis well to celebrate his birth. 

And teach the youth to know his worth 

If all cannot rise to his fame. 

Yet most can win a ^vorth^' name. 



OLD WINTER AND SPRING, OR THE 
UNION OF PARTIES. 



Old winter is leaving, we'll bid him good bye. 
We are glad he is going, for S2:)ring is so nigh ; 
It has often been said and we Wiow it full well. 
That the}" cannot together in harmony d\yell. 



3f}' Neighbors. 307 

Democratic republics miorht cjuite as well aiin. 
To dwell where a monarchy rules the domain ; 
Or to live in republics as well might a king, 
As for old rigid winter to li^•e in the spring. 

I'hev are not like tlie })artics \\ c hear of of late. 
Who so happih' wed in the -'Old (jranite vState ;" 
The groomsman was (juite prepossessing and Hale, 
The bridesmaid, more delicate. ^^ ore a thick veil. 

\Ve hope the result of the marriage will prove, 
Tt was not made from selfishness but from pure love ; 
That the union was formed and the pledges were given, 
Such as sanctioned on earth and appro\ed of in heaven. 

Man\ things that king vSolomon never did dream. 
Ha\"e happened in these days of railroads and steam : 
Many things that look no\eI that's certainly true. 
Though the king did declare that there was nothing new. 

Having ice for a match though a gun can be fired, 
Vet the fact does not pro\e tiiat the object desire^d ; 
By such opposite means can lie alwa\ s ol)tained. 
Any more than some unions great \ictories gain. 

Some tilings can be done (juite as well as can others. 
But winter and spring cannot li\'e well as brothers ; 
As well for this wedding make wine out of cherries. 
Or good wedding cake out of nothing but Berrys. 



MY NEIGHBORS. 

EacJi neighbor of mine is as good as the rest. 

The poorest or richest as good as the best ; 

If any have faults they are such I don't see, 

I'll not hunt to find them, they're all kind to me. 

The faults of a neighbor one of ten may find, 

Are but those of one's fancy and coined in the mind ; 

If we look well within and but study with care. 

We will find in our own eye a large beam is there ; 

Then pluck out the beam that your sight may be clear, 

^'ou ma\ then look for mote in thy brothers near. 



3oS Airs. Barron's Poems. 

A BEREAVED FAMILY. 



Our sister whom all loved has passed awaA', 
Passed from her home nor will return for aye ; 
Her husband weeps that she has gone before. 
Her children that the\ see her face no more. 

Her lamp of lo\e ga\e light to all around. 
For at her duty ever she was found ; 
Read}' to do some kind act by the way. 
To make some one more happ\ ever\' da\ . 

Like the wise \'irgins when the bridegroom came. 
Her lamp was trimmed and when He called her name ; 
She waited not but passed from earth awav,, 
^^) live with God where is eternal daw 

Narrow and short her pathway to the grave. 
Scarcely her boat was launched upon the wave ; 
Ere she*was landed safelv on the shore, 
The land of peace, the land fore\ ermore. 

Her man} friends will miss her now. 
But all to heaven's decree must learn to bow ; 
F^aith bids them dry their tears, from grief refrain, 
And bid them hope that the^• shall meet again. 



WISHES 



Ma}' the winter be cheerful and pleasant m} fiiend. 
As the season of springtime and roses has been ; 
Real friends and pleasures in plentv combined, 
Yielding health to the bodv and health to the mind. 

Be the friends vou confide in ever faitl^ful and true, 
Gi\ ing aid when }'ou need and advice that is true ; 
Life will soon pass awav. but a life rightly spent 
Yields a fund of enjovment and few things to repent. 

New beauties of nature develop for aye. 

New hopes are inspired as we're passing away. 



Death of a Senator. -^09 

WHAT A LITTLE CHILD CAN DO. 



Every little son and daughter. 

Like a little quiet rill. 
Can do somethino- otmkI and ouolit to. 

Has some duty to fulfil. 

With the sunshine of their graces. 

How the> strew our path with flowers ; 
With their pleasant smiling- foces. 

Gladden hearts like summer showers. 

How I love to see them happy. 
When on me they cast their eves : 

Then I feel an inspiration. 
As from angels from tlie skies. 

Jesus Christ, the blessed Saxiour, 

Once was but a little child ; 
Ott He blest the little children. 

Spake to them so kind and mild. 

Children then could sing hosannas. 

^ Strewed His path with palms and flowers 
Children now can sing as prettx . 
Xone can do more good than ours. 

Every day learn some new maxim. 

Learn to do some little good ; 
Learn to do themselves to others, 

As themselves wish others would. 



DEATH OF A SENATOR, 



A man of noble mind and sj^irit bland 
Has gone ; we feel his loss among this band 
Xor shall we momii alone our coimtrv'll feel 
His death ii^tlicts a wound not cas\- healed. 



3IO Airs. Barr Oil's Poems. 



He was as mild as summer's risino- morn. 
His g-races have the halls of state adorned : 
Friend to his friends in every time of need, 
And many hearts will clad in sorrows weed. 

His eloquence has often gained applause 
From manv. pleading for his country's cause ; 
But now his voice has ceased, his work is done, 
His memory will be cherished thouo-h he's 2'one. 

Nor will his deeds of merc^■ be forgot. 
His fame of merit li^•es though he is not ; 
For him his friends a badgfe of mourning- wear. 
For him atVection sheds the falling tear. 

But there is left one consolation still. 
Which will the mourner's heart with comfort fill ; 
It is the hope that God revealed His grace. 
'And now receives him to His own embrace. 

For him religion smoothed his (l\ing bed. 
And soothed his heart as down beneath his head ; 
Hope, like an anchor to the soul of man. 
Sustained by faith does that which naught else can, 

It triumphs o'er the grave and conquers death. 
And gives the christian joy to ^^ield his breath ; 
Reveals to those who live its mighty power 
To 'suage the terrors of a dvi ng hour. 



OUR BEACH PARTY. 

.\UGUST. 18<;<S. 



A band of friends from grave to gay. 
Met on the banks of the Nashua ; 
Their destined place, Nantasket Beach. 
Their object, health or fun for each. 

They took their seats within the car. 
And knew no cause their hopes to mar 
As o'er the rail they swiftly sped. 
The iron horse their chariot led. 



Our BcacJi Party. 311 

As on thev passed through fields of green. 
Farms too of fruit and grain were seen ; 
Some pleasant villas met the eye. 
Were only seen, soon passing b\-. 

The horse well trained l)v men of skill. 
Arrived at Boston, there stood still ; 
Some walked through Boston, chose and would. 
Some rode, as all who wished to could. 

Arriving at the ocean's side. 
Rose Standish. in her modest pride, 
Proud of her precious freight she seemed. 
As through the hrinv waves she steamed. 

On reaching Hingham's wharf, she too 
Curbed her strong horse wdiich led her through ; 
The horse that rides upon the flood 
Now yields to those of flesh and blood. 

All had a pleasant joyous ride, 
Until they reached the ocean's side ; 
Rock bound, to wdiich Jehovah said, 
Thus far shall thy proud waves l)e stayed. 

Some pitched their tents upon the shore. 
Where thev could hear the ocean roar ; 
While others in the house found rest. 
And all felt satisfied and blest. 

The Centre House, our union home. 
There all could congregate or roam ; 
Where all our wants could l^e supplied. 
From there behold the land or tide. 

The landlord had his larder filled. 
Polite himself and cooks well skilled ; 
Xot Loring. who in law was famed. 
But one well worthy of the name. 

Each waiter, too, with pleasant face, 
Performed their oflice with a grace ; 
Shall I rehearse the bill of fare. 
Which, in its turn, well cooked was there .'^ 



312 



Mrs. Barron\'^ Poons. 

Nice chowders made of fish or chims, 
And mutton chops or soup of lambs ; 
Best fried potatoes that could he 
111 qualitv and quantity. 

Baked beef and steak cooked brown or rare 
Fried fish of various kinds to spare ; 
The best of lol:)sters and boiled clams, 
Cold meat sliced up of beef or hams. 

Boiled beets and cabbaoes. and beans, 
Boiled beef and pork, both fat and lean : 
On Sundays we had baked beans too. 
Clams fried in batter ; that is true. 

Fried fish with names I did not learn. 
Meat hash and fish balls in their turn ; 
Bread from the baker, white and brown, 
Both good enouo'h for kino- or-clown. 

Sometimes we had warm biscuit too. 
Butter and cheese, and dou^^hnuts new ; 
Phmi cakes and cookies, custards nice. 
Plum puddings made of bread or rice. 

Pies made of berries, apples, meat. 
Enough, and good for all to eat ; 
For drinks, good cofiee and good tea. 
Good milk and sus;ar as could be. 



T H It A M U S E M K NTS. 



Next morning, as the sun rose bright, 
Fatigue had passed awa>' with night ; 
So all those present wished to know, 
What the\' should do. where they should go. 

The means are ready said a voice, 
So everv one can have a choice ; 
A boat and skipper would not fail, 
So all who wish could have a sail. 



Oil)' Beach Party - 313 

Those risiiiCT early, if they wish, 
Mi«-ht o-o to sail and catch some fish ; 
Or later, have a pleasure ride 
L'pon the flood or ebbing' tide. 

Some had a choice tbr rollino- l^all. 
And those could do so, some or all ; 
While others, if thev would, could plav 
At dominoes or at croquet. 

vSome played at coppers or at quoits. 
Or any new or old exploits ; 
Young- men and maidens flirted t(K). 
As all expect that such would do. 

And when their bathing clothes thev don. 
Each suit appropriate as ton, 
Then skipping to the ocean side, 
They lave themselves beneath the tide. 

And when the evening shades drew nigh. 
The sun had left the western skv. 
All gathered in a public hall 
And listened to the music's call. 

Some tripped the light fantastic toe. 
While some were marching to and fro ;• 
Sometimes they plaved at euchre, too. 
Or gammon as they chose to do. 

Sometimes they had some serenades 
With instruments of different grades ; 
All had their choice, some might prefer 
Accordeon or dulcimer. 

Of vocal music, first-class too. 
We had fine songs, both old and new ; 
Poems were read and hymns were sung. 
And declamations bv the vouno-. 

If any, scrupulous of games. 

Chose not to join, 'tw^as all the same ; 

And every one had perfect right 

To do what pleased them, dav or night. 



314 Airs. Bai'i'on's Poems. 

The soldiers pitched their tents in sic^ht, 
Though not preparing for a fight ; 
Some of our party thought it new 
To go and see them at review. 

They formed a part\ for a sail, 
Nor deemed it possihle to fail ; 
The wind was fair, the boat did glide 
Most lovely o'er the deep blue tide. 

Just time for one re\iew to see 

Of batteries and cavalrv ; 

As day was nearing to a close. 

To leave the field of course we chose. 

Lest we should not get home till dark. 
We sought the beach to re-embark ; 
The wind was fair for several miles, 
Then almost ceasing for a while. 

It moved so slow% it looked to be 
That scarce a motion one could see ; 
We seemed as nearing home at last. 
But all at once our keel was fast. 

Bv dint of skill and muscle stron«-. 
She soon was off and moved along ; 
But ere she reached the wished for shore, 
She struck, and faster than before. 

Two boats approached, took us aboard, 
And all the needed aid afford : 
We reached the land, 'tis surelv true. 
But not the shore, that any knew. 

We disembarked and tried our skill, 
To climb the ledge and rugged hill ; 
The sun was down, the twilight deep. 
As we commenced to scale the steep. 

And when a simimit we obtained, 

Go forward and descend again ; 

W^e passed through thistles, mud and mire, 

As thick and hisfh as one desire. 



Our Beach Party. 315 

Ledge after ledge we climbed up high. 
Until, though dark, we did espy 
A path which man and beast had trod. 
With thanks we raised our hearts to God. 

The Rockland House, our beacon light. 
Inspired our hearts on that dark night ; 
The Centre House, our wished for goal. 
We reached in safety ever\ soul. 

Some of the partv we left there 
Had gone awa}- to Hingham fair ; 
.Some there, en^faijed in g-ames or talk. 
While others chose to take a walk. 

So day passed pleasant after day. 
Scarce noted, till it passed away ; 
Two Sundays we had preaching too. 
With sacred music, something new. 

Those who would lead our hearts to God, 
Miss Brown and Airs. Hannaford ; 
They preached with energy and power. 
Thus passed the closing Sabbath liours. 



SOME OV THOSE WHO MADE l^P THE PARTY, 

\yrni thejh proeessions. 



Among the com])any were those 
Who represent the trades they chose ; 
Not workmen they, with half a trade. 
But finished work of highest grade. 

Is lumber sought witli which to 1)uild. 
There's Proctor can the order fill ; 
For pattern makers, Sprague and Hale, 
To make good fits can scarcely fail. 

Weston and Stevens, so well skilled. 
First-class brick house or church cail Iniild 
A carpenter named Hill is good 
To finish up a house of wood. 



3i6 Mrs. Baj'ron's Poems. 

Are paints and varnish to be used. 
Atwood is ready if you choose ; 
If safety locks are to be made, 
Marshall and VVardsworth have the trade. 

Marshall, the second, plates with care 
The locks or nicest silver ware ; 
Russell and Colburn, those who win. 
At making stoves or vending tin. 

If furniture is wanted too. 
Fletcher can make that nice and new ; 
Whate'er he does, he does it well. 
In writing poems he excels. 

Whatever else is wanted m(^re. 
MuUin makes carpets for the floor ; 
And when one music does prefer. 
He plavs well on the dulcimer. 

■ Whipple, McGarrett, also Woods. 
Make cards and finish paper goods. 
Wright, to invent has mind and means. 
Piper and Johnson make machines. 

French presses, ha\'ing bleached witli care. 

The hats and bonnets ladies wear ; 

For mills if wanted overseers. 

Were two whose names were Holt and Spear 

To oversee the -work and plan 

Of iron, Wellman is the man ; 

One Fletcher guides the hammer strong. 

That moulds the bars if stout or long. 

Vincent and Woodward, people's weal. 
They forge the iron or the steel. 
Can shoe a horse or share a plough. 
Make anything most any how. 

If trusty watchmen should be found. 

Such were one Babcock and one Drown ; 

If one for shoes should be in search, 

A man makes boots and shoes named Murch. 



Our Beach Party. 317 

Crowell, the vvheehvright. be was there. 
Peaslev, who drives the coach with care : 
Would any be with milk supplied. 
The Bowerses would that provide. 

A clerk, whose business is to win 

The custom of the fair, is Flinn ; 

And vSampson keeps saloon. I think. ^% 

Can furnish fof)d, perhaps some drink. 

McKean and Kimball, both are they. 
And active merchants of the dav ; 
Burbank, a trader of the past. 
With competence retires at last. 

If you woidd learn to write with ease, 
Hendrick can teach ^ ou if vou please ; 
If jewelrv you want. I'm told 
He makes them verv nice of gold. 

You want goods moved or bills expressed, 
Find Shedd and Marsh among the rest ; 
To dye and dress, if he's emploved. 
Make clothes look nice one Murgatrovd. 

Is one in search of wedding cakes. 
Would find a man nice frosting makes ; 
To Osborne we can well refer. 
As a first-class confectioner. 

There's Eayrs the first, who owns a mill, 
Grinds medicine, to infuse or pills ; 
And Eayrs the second has the mind 
To pulverize and make it fine. 

And Eayrs the third compounds the same. 
And gives to each its proper name ; 
Each does his part, that men of skill 
May cure the sick, who can or will. 

vSpalding can do, and 'tis no harm. 

Or teach a school or till a farm ; 

And more, though some might think it queer, 

But he's a civil engineer. 



3i8 Mrs. Bar roll's Poems. 

Lenfest and Riley, they both know 
The printer's trade, that they can do. 
Parker, our honored friend, was here. 
His pleasant face adds to the clieer. 

If he makes oarments for a man. 
He fits them well, for well he can ; 
^ Or more extensively he trades. 

And deals in garments ready made. 

If in his judgment men confide. 
With dignity can he preside ; 
And wisely his conclusion draws. 
If rolling ball or making laws. 

'Tis not a wonder of the age. 

That long experience makes one sage ; 

But 'tis a wonder of the day. 

To talk to people far away. 

Talk with the fingers, too, is one, 
When news goes faster than the sun ; 
Few men such feats do undertake. 
But such a man was there, young Blake. 

We have not of the ladies told. 
Who graced the party, young and old ; 
They might with favor well compare 
With equal numbers any where. 

Small lads and lasses l:)oth were there. 
Helped make the picture bright and fair ; 
If any had much fault to find. 
The cause must be an acid mind. 



ALEXANDER AND HIS WAR HORSE. 



A war horse fiery, large and gay. 
Was brought the king from Thessalia ; 
Which Phillip deemed so wild and strong. 
He thought to send him back ere long. 



Alexander and His War Horse. 

The noble beast stood prancin<j^ 'round. 
Distended nostrils breathing' sound ; 
While with his feet he tore the earth. 
\\\(\ seemed to sav none knows \w\ worth, 

Bucephalus thus on tlie track. 
No groom or courtier dared to back ; 
Prince Alexander raised his head. 
And to the king his father said : 

(Trive me the chance -and I will tl•^ . 

I read his spirit in his eve ; 

1 know he is a noble steed. 

ril ciul) his fire and win the meed. 

\ow bow assent, now fear no ill. 
Trust me, I have the power and skill ; 
I'll ride in triumph o'er the plain. 
And safely come to vou again. 

He took him gentlv b\ the rein, 
Breathed in his nostrils, stroked his mane ; 
Seeing his shadow was his dread. 
Toward the sun he turned his head. 

Throwing his cloak upon the ground. 
He gave one light successful bound ; 
As he no power or skill did lack. 
He firmly seated on his back. 

He found his mettle somewhat gone, 
At first he gently urged him on ; 
Then with his spurs he pierced his side. 
And like the wind that youth did glide. 

And when the first great course was run. 
The praises of the courtiers won ; 
Thus Alexander called the Great, 
Triumphed over courtier's of the state. 

In future led his armies on. 
In triumph all the victory won. 
Until his conquests were complete, 
All crowned heads knelt at his feet. 



-^20 Mi's. Barrofi's Poems. 

Bucephalus his master bore, 
O'er many a liattle-field of gore. 
Always to triumph was his fate, 
Rra\e Alexander called the Great. 



GREETING OF A SUNDAY-SCHOOL 
CLASS. 



1 am glad to meet you here to-day. 
For quite a while I've been away ; 
I loved in former times, 'twas dear. 
To meet my vSimday-school mates here. 

The old house too I loved it all. 
Though plain its style and plain its walls. 
The sun could shine as brightly too, 
Through the old windows as the new. 

All things gro\^' old and so had this, 
And art had changed this edihce 
To one of beauty all can see, 
And comfort so it seems to me. 

I hope this school will all improve. 
And grow in knowledge, truth and love ; 
And all who worship in this place. 
May gnnv in wisdom and in grace. 

May prayer like holy incense rise. 
And heavenly praises reach the skies ; 
That G(xl may grant a listening ear. 
And bless you all who worship here. 

I'm "lad to meet \ou here to-night. 
In praN'er and praises to unite ; 
It gives new impulse, heartfelt cheer, 
To meet c)ur Simdav-school mates here. 



Th a H ksgiving Nigh t. 321 

A CHRISTIAN IN THE VALLEY 
OF HUMILIATION. 



Humiliation's vale is sought by few. 
So far beneath the crowd and shady too ; 
A christian sat therein or rather knelt, 
And wept for sin. as o-rief for sin he felt. 

Objects though near, were not within his view. 
Old and respected, either rich or new ; 
All else to liim was scarcely worth a smile, 
And he would not, that aught his mind beguile, 

To heaven alone, he raised his weeping eyes. 
And sought companionship bey')nd the skies ; 
Nor souoht in vain, for there the vSaviour's face 
His faith l)eheld of beauty, love and grace. 

Received the promise which to man is given. 
The humble soid may hope for joy in heaven ; 
Who. like a child himself shall humble be. 
Shall be exalted in eternity. 

Thus as he bowed before his God, his head 
A heavenly blessing on -his soul was shed ; 
And when liis life was Hnished, closed his day. 
Then peacefully from eartli he passed away. 



THANKSGIVING NIGHT. 



Here o\\ this Thanksgiving night. 

vSilently sitting alone ; 
Thoughts that have slumbered take flight. 

Back to the days long agone. 

My father and mother were there. 

For children the table was spread ; 
With plenty of Thanksgiving fare. 

And blessings on each one were shed. 



322 Mrs. BarroTi's Poems. 

License was granted such days. 

Visits or welcome to friends ; 
Tlie old fashioned lire was ablaze, 

To clieer wiien the light and heat blend, 

Those were the days of lang syne, 
vSuch scenes have all passed away ; 

Tiiat father and mother of mine. 
Sisters and brotliers tor aye. 

]VIv husband he too is wo more, 

My hair growing gray and m\' sight 

Dim, for my age is three score, 
'Tis well to feel lonely to-nio'ht. 



'?5" 



(), no, I am not quite alone. 

For God is my father and hope ; 

I will praise Him for what He has done. 
For blessings in future look up. 



LOOKING TOWARDS A BETTER LIFE, 



A blessed thought that when this body dies. 
We have a glorious mansion in the skies ; 
We leave this pain engendering body here. 
And put one on that never knows a tear. 

W^e dread the suflering which we must go through. 
And fear to step down in the water too ; 
The river looks so deep and cold and drear, 
Faith sometimes falters and we vield to fear. 

So Peter doubted walking on the wave, 
And cried, I perish Lord, unless Thou save ; 
His Master heard his prayer, reached out His hand. 
And he was borne in safety to the land. 

So the disciples on the angry deep, 
Trembled with fear while Jesus was asleep ; 
Earnestly prayed he heard the sea becalmed. 
And they were borne in safely and unharmed. 



Then and Now. 333 

THEN AND NOW. 



I well remember Jackson's dav. 

How he was called a traitor ; 
And every man then kiKnvn as Whig, 

A perfect Jackson hater. 

The party called Republican 

Have followed the Whig's tracks on ; 
But those now called Democracv 

Were led h^ Andrew Jackson. 

The Mammoth Bank, their idol then, 
They worshipped as a god, sir ; 

But Jackson's will more potent then 
Than Aaron with his rod, sir. 

He with a blow cut off its head. 

Its bowels he laid open ; 
Exposed its rottenness of heart, 

It was not worth a coupon. 

He was denounced as traitor then. 

x\ scoundrel and a donkev ; 
They himg him oft in elligy, 

But he cared not. nor shrunk he. 

The Union it shall be preserved, 

Said he, by the eternal ; 
He cut off treason's hvdra-head. 

Destroyed its life infernal. 

T saw him with his head made bare. 
His silver locks were flowing : 

Nor did he look as donkey-like. 
But one as wise and knowing. 

The party who did spurn him then. 

I think that it must be so. 
Are hating Andrew Johnson now, 

And curse him for his veto. 



324 ]\Irs. Bar renins Poems. 

The constitution is the chart, 
And compass for his guide, sir ; 

The ship of state witli sucli a hand. 
In safety it may ride. sir. 

Methinks he'll not desert the wheel. 

If only he's sustained, sir ; 
Until the hayen safe and sound, 

The Union is attained, sir. 

Then lend a hand and strengthen his. 
Now while the wind is blowing ; 

For when his sun shines clear and bright. 
His foes will own he's knowing". 



A WALK IN THE CEMETERY IN 
MERRIMACK. 



I took a walk one pleasant afternoon, 
The day \yas beautiful in sunny June ; 
Inyoluntarily my footsteps led 
Towards the silent city of the dead. 

I read the names of many I had kno\vn. 
When youth and beauty in perfection shone ; 
The infant child, the youth, the middle age. 
The more adyanced, and silyer-headed sage. 

Some sleeping there I'ye dandled on my knee, 
And some with whom I played with childish glee ; 
And one quite near my age vyith prospects tair. 
vShe too has passed away, and long slept there. 

Many an ancient sire, and matron too. 
Friends of my parents, faithful, kind and true ; 
There doctors, lawyers, merchants, landlords rest, 
Farmers, mechanics, worthy memories bless. 

And one lies there of reyolution fame, 
I need not in this place inscribe his name ; 
For that is written with that patriot band. 
Who with united hearts and vyilling iiands 



A Walk in the Cemetery in Aderri mack. 32s 

The Declaration signed, to nations shown 
Our independence of a British throne ; 
And Matthew Thornton will be one of fame. 
As long as Union is our country's name. 

And one lies there whom T have often met, 
Whose loss, who knew him well, may well rco-ret ; 
In health he mingled with the busy throng. 
Attending to his duty, shunning wrong. 

A cordial greeting always for a friend, 
A smile, with which good feelings seem to blend ; 
Were an\- sick, he led their thoughts in prayer. 
Talked of God's love, His providence and care. 

And when together Christians used to meet. 
He loved to speak of God, His praises speak ; 
A father's love was strong within his breast, 
A husband with affection was blest. 



Nor was his love confined to narrow sphere. 
The welfere of his country, too, was dear ; 
Fve heard him oft lament^ and seen him sigh, 
The ruin of his country was so nigh ! 

But ere the lightning from the warring clouds 
Was seen, or thunders heard from cannons loud ; 
Just as a lamp goes out when oil is gone. 
As sudden was his life and labors done. 

No more within his home his voice is heard. 
To give ad^'ice or speak a useful word ; 
The only hope to them can now be given. 
When they shall pass away to meet in Heaven. 



326 Mrs Barron^s Poeins. 

THE ELEVENTH HOUR, 



I'm not expecting at this time of cla}% 
To earn a penny and receive the pay ; 
I thought long time ago that one like me, 
If idle so lonof still idle migfht be. 



iry' 



My knowledge scarcely equal to my years. 
Adds to my doubts, increases much my fears ; 
And as I think that other people might 
Do better tar than I can do to-night. 

But fear to speak lest thev who are more wise. 
Should smile or might unduly criticise ; 
Thus many thoughts orioinal throu2"h fear. 
Are left to die nor reach the public ear ; 

There's many a gem lies buried in the ground, 
And many a talent in a napkin bound ; 
And there remain unused through many years, 
Does good to none because of needless fears. 

This is my theme to draw your talents out, 
That all who can may look themselves about ; 
And see what good each in their turn can do. 
What new ideas to their fellows show. 

Thoughts of great value to the world of times, 
Have had their origin in feeble minds ; 
Most men in one thing only do excel. 
Some do excel in none do many well. 

We know a child says what he knows by heart, 
And without fear his knowledge can impart ; 
And why does such the older as he grows, 
Refuse through fear to tell vou what he knows. 

Shall I expect to tell you what is new, 
Speak to the children tell them something do ; 
Tell them some story which you may have read. 
Your own experience or what others said. 



My Seventy-Fourth Birthday. 327 

MY SEVENTY-FOURTH BIRTHDAY. 



November 24. 1888. 



Another round of seasons come and past. 
Another shadow following the last ; 
Adding to my life's journey one year more, 
To-day they count the number seventy-four. 

Yes, seventy-four, how few there yet remain 
To talk of scenes we ne'er can see again ; 
Dim as a picture in a distant view, • 

Yet true to life, and to our visions true. 

Thanks to the Father who has taught me so, 
I need not look to scenes of long ago ; 
But taught me to look forward in the way. 
Where scenes grow l^rigliter in eternal day. 

Hope be the anchor that may stay my soul. 
Faith be the helm to guide me to that goal ; 
Love make the wings by which my soul may soar, 
Until I reach my home forevermore. 

There I shall meet my friends long gone before, 
Those I may leave behind on this life's shore. 
Will not be long before they too will go, 
Where they no pain or sorrow more will know. . 

We'll know each other there, I think we shall. 
Never ag-ain be doomed to sav farewell ; 
Never again shall we behold the night, 
God's glory there will fill all space with light. 

Then welcome be the car that bears me o'er. 
From this hard rock bound to that peaceful shore ; 
My spirit only will it bear away, 
This suffering body leave behind for aye. 

The earth will then within her bosom fast. 
Find it a resting place, one that will last ; 
Nor will she give it up from her embrace, 
Till she among the spheres shall lose her place. 



INDEX. 



A 

A Page in the Lite of a Clergyman 20 

Acrostics, 2G, 78, U2. U.S, 144, 162. 197. 207, 229. 280, 231. 238, 
285, 287, 242, 243- 244, 245. 253. 2fi8, 2()9, 271, 276. 290, 295 

Address of Welcome 34 

An Old Table 41 

A Pet Kitten 50 

A Young Wife 58 

A Cross made of Hai r 55 

A Surprise Party •■ 5(i 

A Rich Gem 00 

A Bereaved H usband " 69 

A Young Friend Passed Away 72 

A Trip to the Mountains and Seashore 78 

A Toad and Spider Fight 88 

A Bereaved Husband and Father 95 

A Party Selected from the N.L.I 108 

Answer to a Letter 108 

A Crow Caught in a Trap 123 

A Farmer who Wanted a Wife 127 

A Little Star 187 

Autumn 189 

A Song for a Little Boy 142 

A Child's Epitaph 146 

Answer to a Valentine 147 

A Verse in an Album 1 48 

Appeal to the Clergy 148 

A Friend of Mine 162 

A Better, Brighter Day 1 64 

A Soldier's Epitaph 165 

A Storm 178 

A Song for a Little Boy 198 

A Song for the School 194 



330 Index. 



PAGE. 

A Friend Has Left 203 

A Brain Fruit Tree - 215 

A Memento 220 

A Cold North-Easter 223 

A Game Dinner 224 

A Persian Parable 225 

A Little Handful of Violets 230 

Addie's Pets 237 

A Pretty Picture 241 

A Mother Passed Away 2b'6 

A Still, Small Voice 261 

A Dream 262 

An Only Son 264 

A Prayer 266 

A Bright Spot in My Old Age 275 

A Dutiful Son 283 

Alphabetical Song 284 

A Little Child's Death 287 

A Farewell 288 

An Epitaph 201 

A Human Tenement 207 

A Pet Cat 300 

A Bereaved Family 308 

Alexander and His War Horse 318 

A Christian in the Valley of Humiliation.. 321 

A Walk in the Cemetery in Merrimack 324 



B 

Benjainin Franklin Taming the Lightning 305 

C 

Commendable Economy 92 

Christ the Chief Corner Stone 108 

Christian Armor 112 

Christmas Day Meditations 198 

Cupid's Darts '. 211 

Christmas 216 

Celebrating Fremont's Defeat 234 

Change of Seasons, an Emblem of Life 251 



Index. 331 

D 

I'AGE. 

Do All the Good You Can 23 

Death of President W. H. Harrison 02 

•' A Young Husband 70 

A Wife and Mother 107 

An Aged Neighbor 110 

" x\ Young Wife and Mother Ill 

" A Scholar in the Sundax' School 14(> 

Dedication for an Album 152 

Death of a Young Daughter 209 

Darling Little Hattie Taggard 242 

Do Your Duty 255 

Death of a Young Friend 271) 

"• Two Brothers 274 

1857 and Birth of 1858 28H 

Little Nelly noi 

An Infant Son ;>02 

A Senator }^0i) 



E 

Eighteen hundred eight_\-one years since the First Christ- 
mas Day 1 1 (■» 

Electioneering in 1S40 172 

Eighteen Hundred and Eighty-t\\o 213 

Easter Morning 224 

Encouragement to Come to Christ 291 



F 

Forty Years Ago 29 

Farewell to Winter 140 

Fight for the Union, Bo\ s 1G4 

Formation of the Earth 180 

For Little Nellie F. Eayrs 190 

Faith, Hope and Charity 200 

Faith 202 

Farewell to Winter 291 

Flower Girls 800 



332 Index. 

G 

PAGE. 

George Washington's Birthday 120 

Going Through the Valley or Gate of Death 256 

Good and 111 271> 

Greeting of a Sunday School Class 320 

H 

HariTiony of the Elements of the Seasons 80 

Hope for the Penitent 191) 

How I would like to pass over the River. ... 257 

I 

If It Could Be 2(i 

I Cannot Weep lis 

I am Growing Old 1<>1> 

Itis first-rate to he a Yankee 190 

I Hear the Robins Singing 228 

I Had a Dear Papa 254 

I Would Pass Away 259 

I Do Not F^ear to Die 26:5 

It is Well 274 

J 
Jesus My Friend 270 

L 

Lads Playing in the Snow 98 

Letter to My Nephew in the Army 101 

Lorenzo Dow Raising the Devil 129 

Little Nettie to her Bereaved Friends 141 

Lines Written for a Friend to a Friend 159 

Love for the Constitution and Union - 160 

Lonely in a Crowd 160 

Look Up 168 

Lines suggested by the Death of a Friend 171 

Little Adopted Daughter 196 

Little Pets 276 

Letter to Kendall Wright 295 

Letter to an Old Neighbor 299 

Looking Towards a Better Life 322 



Index. 3-^-^ 

M 

PAGE. 

Mv Little Party 4fi 

Motherless Child 100 

My Seventy-Second Birthday 115 

Meeting a School Girl While on a Journev 119 

May Morning 126 

My Canary 151 

My Celestial Tour 153 

My Little Kitty 188 

My Tenth Birthday 191 

My Grandnephew .^ 192 

My Little Grandniece 195 

Morn ing Prayer 201 

Memorial on the Death of a Boy in the Sunday School 204 

My First Waking Thoughts This Sahbath Morn 205 

My Dream in the Night 207 

My Old House is Going to Decay 214 

My Little Neighbors 239 

My Neighbors 307 

Mv Seventy-Fourth Birthday 327 

N 

New Year's Day Morning 49 

Nearing My Journey's End 52 

Nearer the Hand that Holds the Rod 115 

Not All The Good Have Left , 125 

Night Thoughts to a Sick Sister 163 

Not All Are Here 170 

O 

Old Age and Childhood 59 

Our Little Friend Harry 74 

On the Death of My Little Friend 145 

Our Temple of Libert\- in a Crale 167 

Only One Fibre 218 

Our Golden Wedding 240 

On the Death of Little Birdie 263 

Onward 277 

Obedience to Laws 298 

Old Winter and Spring or the[_Union of Parties 306 

Our Beach Partv 310 



^^-^4 Index. 

P 

I'AGE. 

Pictures of a Cross Embellished with Flowers 200 

Peaceful are his Slumbers 267 

Perse\'erance Under Afflictions 267 

Public Praver 280 

R 

Recollections of Lonj;' Ago <SG 

Reflections after a Sleepless Night 110 

Right 231 



Sunny June 50 

Some Things Hard to Believe 51 

St. Paul's Triumph over Persecution 113 

Soliloquy 114 

Spring 140 

Sick in Bed and Trying to Write 233 

Soliloquy of an Old Man 247 

Submission to the Crosses of Life 260 

Song of Praise 272 

Soliloquy 299 

T 

The Home of My Childhood 5 

The Death of the Mother 11 

•' -^ Father 12 

" a Daughter 13 

The Greatness and Goodness of God 18 

To a Young Physician 19 

The Year 1861 is Gone 27 

The Last of 1863 29 

The Clam Bake 35 

The Farmer's Welcome 43 

The Arts 47 

To Minnie , 53 

The Temple of Liberty 54 

The Benevolent Sewing Circle 57 

To a Friend Who is Going Far Away 60 

The Stray Lambs 64 

The Fountain 67 



Index, 335 

PAGE. 

The Old Physician of Our Childhood 68 

The Poor Beggar Child 78 

The Roses 75 

Thanksgiving Day 70 

The Little Shaying Girl 77 

Truth 100 

Two Little Loyes Passed Away 102 

The Consequences of Leaving Religion in the Sanctuary — 104 

Taxing Original Poetry 122 

The Father Sees and Hears 123 

There is No Merit lo") 

The Parson and His Neighbor 180 

True Friendship 143 

To a Friend 145 

The Sun and Moon 150 

To a Friend 150 

To a Friend in an Album 152 

To a Mother on the Death of Hei Babe 101 

This World of Ours 100 

The Experience of a Young Doctor 17;') 

The Doctor's Overcoat 17!> 

The Chanticleer 18!> 

To a Little Friend 198 

The First Christmas Day and the First Christmas Present. . 200 

To a Friend 210 

The Cold Wind 212 

To My Nephew 219 

The Rose Without a Thorn 220 

The Christian Graces 221 

The Stars or the Angel's Forget-me-nots 222 

The Human Heart 220 

The \'oice of the Birds 227 

The Noble Firemen 232 

The Children's Gift 235 

Times That Try Mens' Souls 238 

To a Friend 243 

To a Neighbor 246 

The Great First Cause 248 

The Slothful Rill 249 

True Friendship 259 

Try to Lift the Cross 269 



33^^ Index. 

PAGE. 

Thoughts on a Sick Bed 276 

There is a Happy Land 278 

Temperance Song 279 

Taste Not the Wine 281 

The Closet 281 

The Young- Hickorv 282 

The Muzzle 28:5 

The D rough t 28G 

The Story of the Cross 287 

The Haven of" Hope 289 

The Difference between the Good and the Bad 292 

The Well of Salvation 294 

The Grantie State 802 

The Constitution and Flag of Our Union oOS 

Thanksgiving Night 321 

Then and Now 323 

The Eleventh Hour 326 

U 

Uncle Sam 38 

V 

Vacation is Coming 195 

W 

What Happened Seventy Years Ago 117 

Wooing and Winning in Olden Times 132 

Waiting 134 

Winter 183 

What Prudence, the Mother of the Virtues, with Her Chil- 
dren Did 184 

Welcome to Little Children 191 

Written in a Letter to a Friend 244 

Winter is Coming 252 

Why Should I Weep for Those Gone Before? 260 

Welcome to Baby 271 

Words of a Little Girl to Her Uncle 275 

Wishes 308 

What a Little Child Can Do 309 

Y 

Your Baby's Picture 229 

Your Babv 253 



